The Salvatore brothers sickfics

Stefan - denial

The cheerleaders were having their practice at the moment in the back of the gym, and he almost couldn't resist to peak into Carolines bag, as he saw it on the floor. He was certain that she would have some sort of makeup in there, which could help him look less tired. So he quickly grabbed her blush and applied just a little to his own cheeks before leaving the indoor area of the school.

He sat outside by the bench and tables and supported his head as he was feeling the headache getting way worse. He could text Damon right? Saying that he wasn't feeling well. No. No, it was just a hangover. No need to make a big deal out of it. No need for Damon to pick him up. He was fine. He could make it through the day.

And he did make it through the day. He did. But barely. He was in so much pain when he walked home, that he felt like he could barely walk. And when he entered the house, he saw Damon by the fireplace, but didn't care as he stumbled to the bathroom and dropped to his knees.

"Stefan?" He heard Damon call out concernedly from downstairs.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Stefan tried to yell, but it only came out as a gasp that only he could hear. Soon he heard Damon appear behind him. He could hear Damon's breathing, which wasn't as calm as it usually was.

"Jesus Stef," Damon said, kneeling behind his little brother's shaking form. He pressed his wrist against Stefan's burning forehead and pulled away in shock as if he had burned himself. "Stefan-,"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Stefan said breathing faster. He now noticed the tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm fine, Damon. I'm fine. I'm not sick."

"And I'm not a vampire," Damon whispered, taking a hold of Stefan, pulling him up from the floor. Stefan kept rambling about not being sick and everything, while Damon brought him to his bed.

"You just gotta rest, okay Stef? You're gonna be okay."

"I'm not sick, Damon. I'm not. It's just a hangover."

"Hey you." Damon took a firm hold of Stefans face, making the sobbing boy look at him. "I am taking care of you okay? I don't care whether you're sick or not. You're obviously not well. I am the big brother and I am taking care of you. You hear me? I am going to make you feel better."

Tears spilled from the younger Salvatore's eyes as he looked at his older brother. Damon let Stefan keep his jersey on and he wrapped a blanket around him and found a bucket, which he placed on the floor. He went to the bathroom and came back with a thermometer.

"I'm just gonna take your temperature, pal. Open your mouth for me." He sat on the bed next to Stefan and as Stefan opened his mouth and turned his head over the edge of the bed, vomiting heavily in the bucket. He whimpered and sobbed as Damon carefully wiped his mouth. 

"Okay, we're gonna try again. Open up." Damon said, but Stefan kept his mouth shut. "Come on, Stef. It's either this way, or the other way, and neither of us wants it the other way, do we?"

"I'm not sick. I'm not sick, Damon," Stefan gasped.

"Really? I almost couldn't see it for all of the vomit." Damon mumbled. Stefan broke down in tears with that.

"Come on, Stef. Just open up, so this won't be as bad."

Stefan didn't answer, so Damon sighed and pulled the blanket down. He pulled down Stefan's pants and briefs and got ready to take Stefan's temperature.

"Just calm down, buddy. It's not gonna hurt. You just have to breathe through it." Damon said. Stefan laid still and was surprisingly not putting up a fight about it. Which was so unlike Stefan that it actually made Damon worried.

"You sure you're okay, Stef?" Damon asked gently and Stefan nodded a little. Then Damon took Stefans temperature with a result of 105 degrees fahrenheit. Damon could only think that it was a good thing that Stefan wasn't human. Damon then threw out the thermometer.

Over the next couple of hours, Stefan kept getting worse and worse, throwing up over and over again. After hours of trying to get Stefan to calm down without any luck, Damon decided to just get into bed with him, which immediately helped. Stefan stopped crying but he was breathing fast, trying to fight the fever.

"So you said you're not sick?" Damon teased.

"I am not sick, Father. You do not have to take me to see doctor Thompson. It was just the cognac," Stefan gasped.

"Stefan? It's me. It's Damon. Father isn't here." Damon said worriedly.

"Damon?" Stefan smiled looking up at him. Meeting his kind eyes. "Are you back from the war already?"

Damon realised that Stefan was hallucinating, and decided to just go with it.

"Of course I am. I came as soon as I heard, that you weren't feeling well."

"It's just the cognac I swear."

"I'm sure it is." Damon smiled.

after laying like that for a few more hours. Stefan asleep and whimpering on Damon's chest and every now and then wake up to say something completely random, Damon heard Stefan's stomach growl and he smiled a little.

"Are you hungry, baby brother?" He whispered and rolled up his sleeve. Damon let his fangs gently pierce his skin and watched Stefan's face as he caught onto the smell. The veins under his eyes started to darken and his fangs had dropped when he parted his lips a little. He seemed hungry.

Stefan moved his head forward and bit harshly into Damons arm as he drank blindly. Damon rested his head on top of Stefan's.

"You can take as much as you need, little brother" Damon whispered.