[tvd stefan, damon] the letter of the law (1/1)
Letter of the Law
By: White Rain
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries.
Genre: Giving Stefan a narrative
Character/Pairing: Damon and Stefan; Klaus/Stefan
Word Count: 2,447
Rating: R
Warnings/Contains: Blood. Discussion of past rape and abuse. Damon tortures Stefan and it's graphically written.
Notes: My plan for a productive Saturday working on stories I've started failed and this came out instead.
Set between 3x05-08. Klaus literally taking away Stefan's agency should have been my favorite thing ever. However, Plec and company hate everything I love and didn't bother to give Stefan a POV. So here I am, making my own joy.
Summary: Not to be, you know, territorial or anything.
-
Damon's first instinct was to stab Stefan with the same knife he'd used to slice through his own wrist for being an idiot. But watching Stefan gather up some of the blood he'd dripped onto the kitchen table with the tip of a mechanical pencil brought out a stronger instinct and the knife slipped through his fingers. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Writing lines," Stefan said and he turned to the notebook in front of him.
Damon sat a hand on his shoulder and leaned over. Written in Stefan's blood, in his neatest and tiniest handwriting, was one sentence: I will watch my tone.
"Next question then," Damon said, "why?"
Stefan picked up some more blood with the pencil. "Punishment." Once more, he wrote the sentence. "Klaus doesn't like it when I mock his master plans." He picked up more blood and wrote. "Since he's not here to beat me, he had to be more creative."
"With blood?" Damon asked, unable to tear his eyes away from Stefan's precise hand. He hadn't smeared as much as a drop of blood.
"Ink wasn't poetic enough," Stefan said like he was repeating a funny joke, "and this will be more memorable." He grabbed the knife off of the ground and stabbed his own arm to the bone and hissed. More blood pooled onto the table.
Damon grabbed the knife away from his brother and tossed it into the sink. Stefan's wasn't concerned that his tool for getting more blood was gone. He too busy writing more lines. He was careful as he wrote, just like he'd been careful not to disturb any of their father's papers on his desk when he'd been bent over it and whipped.
Stefan only got in trouble because of Damon since he was so naturally obedient that Damon was sure it was coded in his DNA. And he'd been compelled to obey.
Damon curled his hand into Stefan's shirt as memories of Stefan crying in his arms after their father refused to accept his apologies surfaced. "Did you want him to do this to you?"
Stefan laughed. "Are you concerned about me, brother?"
Damon grabbed hold of the chair and turned it around. He seized Stefan's arms with more force than strictly needed. Then he leaned down. "Don't deflect." He pulled Stefan forward and slammed him back against the chair. "You had a whole summer to learn what makes him tick. And you used that to find a way to piss him off while still obeying him." He slammed his brother again. "Why?"
"Wrong question." Stefan pushed Damon away and turned around to go back to writing about his tone. "You see, Klaus isn't done with me. He still has some fine tuning to do. You should be asking what would happen if I didn't piss him off."
Damon twirled Stefan around again and took pleasure in Stefan's resigned sigh. "What does Klaus want with you?"
"I'm a ripper," Stefan said, "he likes rippers almost as much as werewolves." He smiled in order to show off his sharp teeth. "And rippers are much harder to find."
Damon sat his hands on Stefan's legs and pushed his fingers into them. Like planned, his face twisted up. Thanks to Lexi, Stefan's defenses fell when he was in pain and Damon was more than happy to use that to his advantage.
"Don't lie, Stefan. Why," Damon dug his nails into Stefan, "does," Stefan grunted, "Klaus," blood began to stain Stefan's jeans, "want," Damon dragged his nails down, "you?"
"I just told you," Stefan said through gritted teeth.
Then it was Damon's turn to sigh in resignation. He walked over to the silverware drawer and grabbed a handful of stakes courtesy of Ric. He dropped them into the pool of blood on the table after he was back to standing next to Stefan.
"I'll confess, brother," Damon said, picking up one of the stakes, "I was worried about you this summer."
"You should have picked up knitting instead," Stefan said.
Damon said nothing. When Stefan reached over to pick up the pencil, Damon kicked the chair out from under him. While it crashing against the wall and breaking into several pieces was cathartic, sinking six out of the seven stakes he'd gathered into his brother was satisfying.
"Want to know why?" Damon said, dropping down on top of his writhing brother. "You have this really bad habit," he shoved the stake he was holding into Stefan's chest, just below his heart, "of not fighting back."
Damon waited for Stefan to catch his breath. "I guess I could have walked away and let him kill you."
"You should have," Damon said. He twisted the stake and Stefan let out a short cry before he was able to bite it down. "But I'm talking about this." He leaned over. Stefan's eyes were wide and his face was flushed. "You just sat there and let me do this." He pulled out the stake as he sat up. "I wasn't even being subtle about my intentions. I'm actually a little insulted."
Stefan jaw tightened. "Are you done?"
This time, though he tried, Stefan wasn't able bite down the noise when Damon shoved the stake back in. He screamed, he screamed loud, and he screamed long.
"We're just getting started, baby brother," Damon said when Stefan's voice finally died out. He leaned back over and twisted the stake as he bit into Stefan's ear, "I'll be more than happy to dry out all the blood out of your body. Then you won't be able to do what Klaus wants." He pulled out the stake and Stefan gasped in relief. "I've always wondered what would happen to someone if they were physically incapable of doing what they were compelled to do." He shoved the stake back in. "Let's find out."
That got Stefan moving. But his arms and legs were pinned firmly to the ground so all he could do was wiggle fruitlessly. Damon pushed and twisted the stake inside Stefan and watched his brother's face as he struggled. Damon didn't like the fact that tears were mixing in with the sweat, but this was, after all, for the greater good.
When Stefan's shoulders finally slumped, Damon couldn't help but smile.
"What do you want?" Stefan asked, hoarse. Blood was slipping down his mouth from where he'd bitten into his lips in a failed attempt to hold in sounds of pain.
"Answers," Damon said. He tore off a bit of Stefan's shirt.
"Fine," Stefan said and he twisted his head around like a grumpy child, his only defense, as Damon wiped the blood off of his lips and chin.
When he was done, Damon dropped the makeshift rag and took out the stake.
"Klaus wants me as his friend," Stefan said, closing his eyes briefly. "He likes the way I torture people."
"And?"
"That's it!"
Damon tapped Stefan's face with the stake and clicked his tongue. "That's the only lie I'll let you get away with." Beneath him, Stefan's entire body relaxed. His head dropped to the side. His eyes slipped close and Damon slapped him. "I didn't say you could sleep."
"Even my threshold for pain has limits," Stefan said.
"Tell me why you let me do this and I'll take out one stake," Damon said.
Stefan turned in order to look at Damon in the eyes and said, "It didn't even occur to me to stop you." He laughed until he choked. "Ripper detox." Damon grabbed a stake from Stefan's leg and tore it down and out of his flesh. He dropped it next to his brother's hip. When he'd stopped yelling, Stefan said in a thin voice, "Call it ripper brainwashing if you'd rather."
"Still bitter she's dead?" Instead of being enraged that Damon was taunting him about murdering his best friend, Stefan looked close to chuckling. "You used to be so angry that I killed her." He thrust the stake into Stefan's chest. "I guess you didn't care all that much about her."
Stefan grinned. "Just as much as I cared about you."
"Yet," Damon twisted the stake a few times and Stefan's smile slipped away as he cried out. "I learned so much about torturing you from her."
"You didn't need her help." There was a faint echo of anger in his voice. Damon decided to reward that flicker of humanity by removing the stake for the moment. Stefan did not react to the brief reprieve with relief. Instead, clenched his jaw. "1992. Lisa Anderson. You compelled her to stab herself to death in front of me."
Damon remembered Lisa, remembered how Stefan looked at her and saw the world. "I guess Andie was payback."
Stefan tried to lift his arms. Damon twisted the stake in his left wrist three times and Stefan's head fell back as he gasped out pain. "Stay still and talk or I'll make it really hurt." Stefan rocked his head back forward and his arms grew still. He nodded.
"Do you know what her mom said when I brought Lisa to her?" Stefan asked after several minutes of panting. "Thank you." Stefan licked his lips. "Apparently she had a history of suicidal depression."
"You see, Lisa was so happy those two years we were together. She was glad her daughter was able to have that." He lifted his head a little and spat, "I loved Lisa." Stefan's head fell back. "You were using Andie."
"Do you want me to say I'm sorry?" He wasn't. Lisa hadn't been in the list of conditions that Damon allowed Stefan.
"I don't want you to do anything, Damon," Stefan said. "That requires desire. What do you want to know now?"
Damon looked down at his brother for awhile before speaking again. "What happens if you don't piss off Klaus?"
Stefan's smile was Katherine's. "Rape."
"You don't want him to make you to?" That was Stefan's humanity and Damon clung to it.
"Wrong direction," Stefan said.
Damon meant to keep pushing Stefan. Instead, his fingers slid into Stefan's sweaty hair and Damon was sixteen and Stefan was ten and shoving an injured kitten at him and begging his big brother to save it. "Did he? To you?"
"He got a lead on a werewolf so he decided we should celebrate." Damon's tangled his fingers into Stefan's hair. "I panicked and he reminded we had a deal." He looked close to laughing. "It was a terrible lay. If we were friends, he might want to pick up where we left off." Then, he did laugh. "I can't exactly say no to him." Eyes half-lidded, he said, mocking in a comforting tone, "There's no reason for you, of all people, to be concerned."
Damon readjusted his grip on the stake and shoved it into his little brother's neck. Stefan tried to scream as he choked and squirmed. Damon counted silently to ten. Then he watched Stefan gasp eagerly for air as he slowly removed the stake. "Want to try that again?"
It took Stefan about five minutes to get his breathing back under control. "I'm not Elena. I don't want you to care. Not anymore."
"You're not Andie, Stefan," Damon said and he stroked Stefan's hair a few times.
Stefan met his eyes. "I told you what Katherine did to me but you still wanted her." Damon froze. "What changed, brother?"
"Everything," Damon snapped, yanking away his hand away from Stefan's hair. He set the tip of the stake on Stefan's hipbone. "What am I going have to do to get you to fight for yourself?"
"Nothing."
Stefan was tired so he could only whimper when Damon pierced his bone with the stake. "I don't buy you don't want anything, Stefan."
Damon removed the stake and waited for Stefan to gather his senses. It had become his least favorite part of this little exercise.
"Okay," Stefan said, "I want you to let me go. I have about a thousand more lines to write."
"Wrong answer," Damon said as he tapped the stake against the freshly wounded hip. "That's what Klaus wants."
"That's as good as you're going to get," Stefan said.
Damon staked his hip again. Stefan whimpered again. Damon removed the stake. "Try again."
Stefan said nothing. Damon shoved the stake into him once more and Stefan scream was silent. He jerked it out. Stefan still said nothing. He tapped Stefan with it again.
"Go on." Stefan's eyelids dropped. "Just tell me when you've had your fill."
Damon looked over his brother. His body was covered in sweat. Small amounts of blood were dripping down his body from the open wounds left by the stakes that were still in him. His clothes and skin were stained with dry blood. His closed eyes were puffy and red. He'd torn off the skin of his lips with his teeth during the torture so much that they were chapped and bloody. And they weren't healing. His body was pushing all its supernatural resources into failing to heal the more deadly wounds.
This wasn't working.
With a frustrated snarl, Damon took out the stakes pinning him down and tossed them aside. He stood up and looked down at his broken baby brother.
Stefan looked at him. "Are you done?"
Damon knelt down next to his brother. "Far from it, Stefan. I've just decided that we've exhausted this method."
Stefan sat up. And promptly fell against Damon because he hadn't build up enough strength yet to sit up on his own. He set his head against Damon's shoulder and murmured, "You just don't like that Lexi did it first." He coughed and swayed. "Territorial dick."
Damon shifted to a more comfortable position as set his hands on Stefan's sides to steady him. "It's one of my best qualities." Stefan slumped completely into Damon's arms and curled his head down.
As Stefan slept, Damon pulled him closer.
By: White Rain
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries.
Genre: Giving Stefan a narrative
Character/Pairing: Damon and Stefan; Klaus/Stefan
Word Count: 2,447
Rating: R
Warnings/Contains: Blood. Discussion of past rape and abuse. Damon tortures Stefan and it's graphically written.
Notes: My plan for a productive Saturday working on stories I've started failed and this came out instead.
Set between 3x05-08. Klaus literally taking away Stefan's agency should have been my favorite thing ever. However, Plec and company hate everything I love and didn't bother to give Stefan a POV. So here I am, making my own joy.
Summary: Not to be, you know, territorial or anything.
-
Damon's first instinct was to stab Stefan with the same knife he'd used to slice through his own wrist for being an idiot. But watching Stefan gather up some of the blood he'd dripped onto the kitchen table with the tip of a mechanical pencil brought out a stronger instinct and the knife slipped through his fingers. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Writing lines," Stefan said and he turned to the notebook in front of him.
Damon sat a hand on his shoulder and leaned over. Written in Stefan's blood, in his neatest and tiniest handwriting, was one sentence: I will watch my tone.
"Next question then," Damon said, "why?"
Stefan picked up some more blood with the pencil. "Punishment." Once more, he wrote the sentence. "Klaus doesn't like it when I mock his master plans." He picked up more blood and wrote. "Since he's not here to beat me, he had to be more creative."
"With blood?" Damon asked, unable to tear his eyes away from Stefan's precise hand. He hadn't smeared as much as a drop of blood.
"Ink wasn't poetic enough," Stefan said like he was repeating a funny joke, "and this will be more memorable." He grabbed the knife off of the ground and stabbed his own arm to the bone and hissed. More blood pooled onto the table.
Damon grabbed the knife away from his brother and tossed it into the sink. Stefan's wasn't concerned that his tool for getting more blood was gone. He too busy writing more lines. He was careful as he wrote, just like he'd been careful not to disturb any of their father's papers on his desk when he'd been bent over it and whipped.
Stefan only got in trouble because of Damon since he was so naturally obedient that Damon was sure it was coded in his DNA. And he'd been compelled to obey.
Damon curled his hand into Stefan's shirt as memories of Stefan crying in his arms after their father refused to accept his apologies surfaced. "Did you want him to do this to you?"
Stefan laughed. "Are you concerned about me, brother?"
Damon grabbed hold of the chair and turned it around. He seized Stefan's arms with more force than strictly needed. Then he leaned down. "Don't deflect." He pulled Stefan forward and slammed him back against the chair. "You had a whole summer to learn what makes him tick. And you used that to find a way to piss him off while still obeying him." He slammed his brother again. "Why?"
"Wrong question." Stefan pushed Damon away and turned around to go back to writing about his tone. "You see, Klaus isn't done with me. He still has some fine tuning to do. You should be asking what would happen if I didn't piss him off."
Damon twirled Stefan around again and took pleasure in Stefan's resigned sigh. "What does Klaus want with you?"
"I'm a ripper," Stefan said, "he likes rippers almost as much as werewolves." He smiled in order to show off his sharp teeth. "And rippers are much harder to find."
Damon sat his hands on Stefan's legs and pushed his fingers into them. Like planned, his face twisted up. Thanks to Lexi, Stefan's defenses fell when he was in pain and Damon was more than happy to use that to his advantage.
"Don't lie, Stefan. Why," Damon dug his nails into Stefan, "does," Stefan grunted, "Klaus," blood began to stain Stefan's jeans, "want," Damon dragged his nails down, "you?"
"I just told you," Stefan said through gritted teeth.
Then it was Damon's turn to sigh in resignation. He walked over to the silverware drawer and grabbed a handful of stakes courtesy of Ric. He dropped them into the pool of blood on the table after he was back to standing next to Stefan.
"I'll confess, brother," Damon said, picking up one of the stakes, "I was worried about you this summer."
"You should have picked up knitting instead," Stefan said.
Damon said nothing. When Stefan reached over to pick up the pencil, Damon kicked the chair out from under him. While it crashing against the wall and breaking into several pieces was cathartic, sinking six out of the seven stakes he'd gathered into his brother was satisfying.
"Want to know why?" Damon said, dropping down on top of his writhing brother. "You have this really bad habit," he shoved the stake he was holding into Stefan's chest, just below his heart, "of not fighting back."
Damon waited for Stefan to catch his breath. "I guess I could have walked away and let him kill you."
"You should have," Damon said. He twisted the stake and Stefan let out a short cry before he was able to bite it down. "But I'm talking about this." He leaned over. Stefan's eyes were wide and his face was flushed. "You just sat there and let me do this." He pulled out the stake as he sat up. "I wasn't even being subtle about my intentions. I'm actually a little insulted."
Stefan jaw tightened. "Are you done?"
This time, though he tried, Stefan wasn't able bite down the noise when Damon shoved the stake back in. He screamed, he screamed loud, and he screamed long.
"We're just getting started, baby brother," Damon said when Stefan's voice finally died out. He leaned back over and twisted the stake as he bit into Stefan's ear, "I'll be more than happy to dry out all the blood out of your body. Then you won't be able to do what Klaus wants." He pulled out the stake and Stefan gasped in relief. "I've always wondered what would happen to someone if they were physically incapable of doing what they were compelled to do." He shoved the stake back in. "Let's find out."
That got Stefan moving. But his arms and legs were pinned firmly to the ground so all he could do was wiggle fruitlessly. Damon pushed and twisted the stake inside Stefan and watched his brother's face as he struggled. Damon didn't like the fact that tears were mixing in with the sweat, but this was, after all, for the greater good.
When Stefan's shoulders finally slumped, Damon couldn't help but smile.
"What do you want?" Stefan asked, hoarse. Blood was slipping down his mouth from where he'd bitten into his lips in a failed attempt to hold in sounds of pain.
"Answers," Damon said. He tore off a bit of Stefan's shirt.
"Fine," Stefan said and he twisted his head around like a grumpy child, his only defense, as Damon wiped the blood off of his lips and chin.
When he was done, Damon dropped the makeshift rag and took out the stake.
"Klaus wants me as his friend," Stefan said, closing his eyes briefly. "He likes the way I torture people."
"And?"
"That's it!"
Damon tapped Stefan's face with the stake and clicked his tongue. "That's the only lie I'll let you get away with." Beneath him, Stefan's entire body relaxed. His head dropped to the side. His eyes slipped close and Damon slapped him. "I didn't say you could sleep."
"Even my threshold for pain has limits," Stefan said.
"Tell me why you let me do this and I'll take out one stake," Damon said.
Stefan turned in order to look at Damon in the eyes and said, "It didn't even occur to me to stop you." He laughed until he choked. "Ripper detox." Damon grabbed a stake from Stefan's leg and tore it down and out of his flesh. He dropped it next to his brother's hip. When he'd stopped yelling, Stefan said in a thin voice, "Call it ripper brainwashing if you'd rather."
"Still bitter she's dead?" Instead of being enraged that Damon was taunting him about murdering his best friend, Stefan looked close to chuckling. "You used to be so angry that I killed her." He thrust the stake into Stefan's chest. "I guess you didn't care all that much about her."
Stefan grinned. "Just as much as I cared about you."
"Yet," Damon twisted the stake a few times and Stefan's smile slipped away as he cried out. "I learned so much about torturing you from her."
"You didn't need her help." There was a faint echo of anger in his voice. Damon decided to reward that flicker of humanity by removing the stake for the moment. Stefan did not react to the brief reprieve with relief. Instead, clenched his jaw. "1992. Lisa Anderson. You compelled her to stab herself to death in front of me."
Damon remembered Lisa, remembered how Stefan looked at her and saw the world. "I guess Andie was payback."
Stefan tried to lift his arms. Damon twisted the stake in his left wrist three times and Stefan's head fell back as he gasped out pain. "Stay still and talk or I'll make it really hurt." Stefan rocked his head back forward and his arms grew still. He nodded.
"Do you know what her mom said when I brought Lisa to her?" Stefan asked after several minutes of panting. "Thank you." Stefan licked his lips. "Apparently she had a history of suicidal depression."
"You see, Lisa was so happy those two years we were together. She was glad her daughter was able to have that." He lifted his head a little and spat, "I loved Lisa." Stefan's head fell back. "You were using Andie."
"Do you want me to say I'm sorry?" He wasn't. Lisa hadn't been in the list of conditions that Damon allowed Stefan.
"I don't want you to do anything, Damon," Stefan said. "That requires desire. What do you want to know now?"
Damon looked down at his brother for awhile before speaking again. "What happens if you don't piss off Klaus?"
Stefan's smile was Katherine's. "Rape."
"You don't want him to make you to?" That was Stefan's humanity and Damon clung to it.
"Wrong direction," Stefan said.
Damon meant to keep pushing Stefan. Instead, his fingers slid into Stefan's sweaty hair and Damon was sixteen and Stefan was ten and shoving an injured kitten at him and begging his big brother to save it. "Did he? To you?"
"He got a lead on a werewolf so he decided we should celebrate." Damon's tangled his fingers into Stefan's hair. "I panicked and he reminded we had a deal." He looked close to laughing. "It was a terrible lay. If we were friends, he might want to pick up where we left off." Then, he did laugh. "I can't exactly say no to him." Eyes half-lidded, he said, mocking in a comforting tone, "There's no reason for you, of all people, to be concerned."
Damon readjusted his grip on the stake and shoved it into his little brother's neck. Stefan tried to scream as he choked and squirmed. Damon counted silently to ten. Then he watched Stefan gasp eagerly for air as he slowly removed the stake. "Want to try that again?"
It took Stefan about five minutes to get his breathing back under control. "I'm not Elena. I don't want you to care. Not anymore."
"You're not Andie, Stefan," Damon said and he stroked Stefan's hair a few times.
Stefan met his eyes. "I told you what Katherine did to me but you still wanted her." Damon froze. "What changed, brother?"
"Everything," Damon snapped, yanking away his hand away from Stefan's hair. He set the tip of the stake on Stefan's hipbone. "What am I going have to do to get you to fight for yourself?"
"Nothing."
Stefan was tired so he could only whimper when Damon pierced his bone with the stake. "I don't buy you don't want anything, Stefan."
Damon removed the stake and waited for Stefan to gather his senses. It had become his least favorite part of this little exercise.
"Okay," Stefan said, "I want you to let me go. I have about a thousand more lines to write."
"Wrong answer," Damon said as he tapped the stake against the freshly wounded hip. "That's what Klaus wants."
"That's as good as you're going to get," Stefan said.
Damon staked his hip again. Stefan whimpered again. Damon removed the stake. "Try again."
Stefan said nothing. Damon shoved the stake into him once more and Stefan scream was silent. He jerked it out. Stefan still said nothing. He tapped Stefan with it again.
"Go on." Stefan's eyelids dropped. "Just tell me when you've had your fill."
Damon looked over his brother. His body was covered in sweat. Small amounts of blood were dripping down his body from the open wounds left by the stakes that were still in him. His clothes and skin were stained with dry blood. His closed eyes were puffy and red. He'd torn off the skin of his lips with his teeth during the torture so much that they were chapped and bloody. And they weren't healing. His body was pushing all its supernatural resources into failing to heal the more deadly wounds.
This wasn't working.
With a frustrated snarl, Damon took out the stakes pinning him down and tossed them aside. He stood up and looked down at his broken baby brother.
Stefan looked at him. "Are you done?"
Damon knelt down next to his brother. "Far from it, Stefan. I've just decided that we've exhausted this method."
Stefan sat up. And promptly fell against Damon because he hadn't build up enough strength yet to sit up on his own. He set his head against Damon's shoulder and murmured, "You just don't like that Lexi did it first." He coughed and swayed. "Territorial dick."
Damon shifted to a more comfortable position as set his hands on Stefan's sides to steady him. "It's one of my best qualities." Stefan slumped completely into Damon's arms and curled his head down.
As Stefan slept, Damon pulled him closer.