Chapter Text
Mystic Falls, 1851
Later, Stefan would say he could remember every detail of Harry's birth, but seeing as he was four, Damon is probably the better authority on the matter. Harry Salvatore was born on July 31st, 1851 to Giuseppe and Mary Salvatore; he had black hair like Damon and the clearest green eyes Damon had ever seen. He was perfect.
Now, Damon and Stefan weren't allowed in the room where the actual birthing was to take place, but in the moments after, when Harry was cleaned carefully by the wet nurse, the two boys were allowed to sit in the room quietly while their mother slept and their father was working.
Damon held Harry first. He was fat and a little chubby and at eleven, Damon noticed all the wrong things about Harry. Like how he smelled weird. Or how his hair stuck up in the back in a little cowlick. And Damon sat in a chair at his mother's bedside holding his infant baby brother – hypnotized by how tiny Harry's fingers and toes were, until his other baby brother leaned over the arm of the chair and said, quite succinctly, "He's really fat."
Harry's eyes opened up a little at the comment, head turning just slightly to gaze at Stefan drowsily and when they made eye-contact, that was the exact moment Stefan decided he loved his small baby brother with all of his heart.
Mystic Falls, 1855
Harry was now four – all big green eyes and floppy black hair, still chubby with ever-present grass stains on finely crafted pants. He had taken to following either Damon or Stefan around and just recently, had figured out that he could get anything he wanted if he just stared up at them with his eyes wide and innocent.
He was now taking advantage of the new found ability to currently coerce Damon into letting him get away without eating his vegetables. And currently, it seemed to be working. That is until Stefan walked into the room, all of five foot nothing and holding one of those thick old books to his chest. Harry doesn't even know why he carries it throughout the day – he never reads from it. Stefan probably just carries it to seem smart.
"Harry, you have to eat your vegetables." Stefan slides into the chair next to Harry, placing the closed book next to Harry's plate.
"I don't have to," Harry replied with the absolute knowledge of a four year old. "I don't have to do anything. Corn is gross, Stefan. I don't want it."
Stefan sighed, turning to look at Damon, who was doing a very good impression of a fifteen year old who very much wanted to be somewhere else. "Damon," there was another sigh. "Tell Harry to eat his vegetables."
"I tried!" Damon sputtered. "I've been trying! What, do you think I just like sitting here just to sit here?"
Harry pouted at those words, pushing his plate away from him. "I thought you liked my co'pany, Damon." Clearly, Stefan's been teaching him new vocabulary.
"Where'd you learn that – " Damon shifted his gaze from Harry to Stefan. He sighs. "Of course I like your company, I just – " There is a brief pause. "Will you please eat your vegetables?"
Harry takes a second to respond. "No."
Stefan laughs, and after a moment, Damon joins in.
Harry never did finish his vegetables, but that's okay. Years later, the memory is enough to make both Stefan and Damon smile.
Mystic Falls, 1859
Harry is eight and Stefan is going through his stuck up twelve year old phase. But that's okay. Stefan is only ever mean to the other children and he still bandages Harry's scrapes and cuts, so Harry doesn't see a problem with it.
Damon doesn't either. At nineteen, he still doesn't know what he's doing with his life, but he does enjoy watching Stefan intellectually ripping apart adults twice his age. He says it keeps him young, but he's not even that old, so Harry doesn't know what he's going on about.
Although, to be fair, Harry doesn't understand half of the things that come out of Damon's mouth. He talks about girls with special code words that he says Harry's not allowed to know the definition of until he's twenty-five. Damon isn't even twenty-five!
It's nearly as confusing as when Stefan when he tries to debate Shakespeare with Harry.
At eight, Harry eats his vegetables when told and is the person the maids depend on to wake Damon. Jumping on the bed usually does the trick. Well, until Damon sleepily grabs Harry and holds him tightly to stop the movement. Then, Harry settles for singing really loudly and off-key until it wakes Stefan and he comes in to get them both up and out of bed.
At this point in Harry's life, despite the growing age difference between the three brothers, they're almost never seen without one another. Damon, Stefan, and Harry were like one entity, finely tuned to each other's moods and predilections. If Damon went into a funk, it was guaranteed that Stefan and Harry could get him out of it. The same could be said for if Stefan went into a scholarly trance or if Harry got injured or into trouble. They were inseparable. And their love for one another was visible and nearly tangible in the way they interacted with one another.
It was always Damon 'n Stefan 'n Harry – the three of them were supposed to be together forever.
(And then five years later, there's a hole in Damon and Stefan's heart the size of their littlest brother and they're just wondering – where did it all go wrong?)
Mystic Falls, December 1863
"No! I won't let you go! They can take someone else, I won't let you – " Harry's voice breaks in the middle of his sentence and he throws himself at Damon, clinging to the coattails made of fine fabric, to Damon's arms – probably getting tears everywhere. Stefan stands to the side, eyes noticeably glassy and their father stands even farther away, eyes hard and posture rigid. Their mother had passed just a few months earlier and ever since the wake, Giuseppe had been even more distant and harsh.
"Harry." The tone brooks no argument, and although Giuseppe was clearly more lenient with the youngest, this was a topic in which no defiance would be tolerated. "You're wrinkling his clothing. You must let him go."
Harry doesn't respond, his sobs muffled into Damon's expensive clothing. Damon had long since resigned himself to going off to fight in the war – better him than Stefan was how he thought of it and he thought Harry had been taking it well – until today. And today was the day he was supposed to leave. He stares down at his baby brother, lost in how to comfort the boy whose shoulders where shaking with the force of his sobs.
Finally, he bends to Harry's level and kisses his forehead, swiping his thumbs over cheeks that haven't lost the last vestiges of baby fat, even at twelve. "Harry –" He cups the boy's neck and gently rubs his thumb over Harry's throat – a move that always calmed the boy Stefan had figured out when Harry was two – and sure enough, Harry calms, sobs turning into sniffles into heavy breathing. "Harry, it's okay. It's going to be okay. I won't be gone long, I promise."
With those words, Harry's wails start anew and Damon looks helpless to Stefan and their father. "B-b-b- but – " Harry visibly calms when Damon rubs the side of his neck, taking deep breaths ease out of the shallow breathing and hiccups. "But what if you don't come back ?"
It's at this point Damon knows exactly why Harry's so upset – their mother had just died and he was scared of the same thing happening to Damon. He brings his baby brother in close for a hug, kissing the top of Harry's head and breathing deeply to avoid spilling the few tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes. He pulls away with his hands on Harry's shoulders and says with no small amount of conviction, "I won't be gone long. I'm going to come back. I promise. "
Harry nods, finally convinced that his brother won't be leaving just as their mother had, stepping out of Damon's embrace into Stefan's – who lost the fight against tears when Damon and Harry started talking. Damon goes in for one last hug with both of his brothers, clapping Stefan on the back and whispering, "take care of him if anything happens, alright?" Stefan nods through his own tears and squeezes Damon's shoulder once before pulling away – and pulling Harry closer as Damon turns and leaves the house, shoulders an odd halfway between slumped and held high.
All three Salvatore men stand in the foyer of the house, angled towards the entrance – hoping against hope that Damon would come back. And it's only when Harry turns from Stefan to Giuseppe sobbing, did their father's eyes finally become glassy.
Mystic Falls, January 1864
Katherine comes twenty-two days after Damon has left. Stefan knows because Harry's been counting inside his little kid-sized journal, sometimes reading aloud in what seems to be an effort of concentration, but in actuality was a rather intelligent method of provoking guilt. Outwardly, it doesn't seem to be working on their father, but Giuseppe's been stoically spoiling Harry – buying extravagant items Harry never asked for and never acknowledging the purchases after gifting them to his youngest. However, despite Giuseppe's expensive gifts it's clear Harry hasn't forgiven him. Probably won't until Damon comes home safe and sound.
If Damon comes home safe and sound.
At seventeen, Stefan likes to think he knows how the world works. He knows that when people go off to fight in a war they don't often come back. Still, despite all logic pointing to the contrary, he can't help but hope with his little brother that Damon is going to come back. But unlike Harry, Stefan is prepared and very aware that there's only a slight chance that Damon is going to come back whole and healthy.
When Katherine arrives at the Salvatore estate with a secretive smile and an even more secretive letter entrusted only to Giuseppe, the mood of the manor is decidedly dreary. She tries to brighten the mood with her cleverness and her wit but the maids, more influenced by the youngest Salvatore's mood than this newcomer, will have none of it. For Stefan, Katherine provides a beautiful distraction. He's no longer wallowing in negativity and doubt, and for hours at a time he forgets where Damon is and what he's fighting for and who he's fighting and why. He debates with Katherine, shares his poetry with her, talks about all these things that go over Damon and Harry's head, and don't go over hers .
She's wonderful and beautiful and Stefan thinks he's in love.
Months and months and months later, Stefan will realize this is the start of a downhill slide that leads to death and more death and the loss of Harry. But then he'll acknowledge he started losing Harry the moment he ignored his baby brother in favor of a pretty girl.
Stefan regrets everything that happens twenty-two days after Damon leaves.
Mystic Falls, February 1864
Dear Damon,
Hopefully, this letter finds you well. Harry's been badgering me to write you one since his penmanship is so awful and he always spills his ink. He says he misses you so much and he loves you more than anyone in the world. That might be a tall tale, considering I love you very much as well –
Sorry for the spilled ink. Harry punched me and refuses to let me start over.
He misses you a lot, Damon. Please come home safe and sound.
There's a new girl in Mystic Falls. Her name is Katherine Pierce and she's beautiful. She has brown hair and brown eyes and she's very intelligent. She can keep up with all of my intellectual 'babble' as you often call it and she has insights I'd never thought of. She's wonderful.
I'll tell you the rest when you come home. Harry is telling me to stop 'the love-sick prattling.' He says it's gross. I regret teaching him that word. He's been using it to describe everything.
Father's been spoiling Harry since you left. He so hates it when Harry's angry with him and Harry hasn't stopped being angry about you leaving since, well, you left. He hasn't been sleeping well. Harry, that is. He misses you so much. I think he's having nightmares about you leaving him.
Please come home.
Love,
Stefan and Harry.
Mystic Falls, March 1864
Harry supposes he's jealous.
It's not like he as a right to be. It's not like he doesn't want Stefan to be happy. But – he just feels like … Stefan forgets he exists sometimes, his head is so full of Katherine. And Harry doesn't hate Katherine either! She's so nice and she buys Harry things and she helps him practice his penmanship. It's just that – it was Damon and Stefan and Harry for so long Harry doesn't know how to cope with Damon gone and Stefan distance. They used to be able to communicate without words and now Stefan doesn't even have the patience to read aloud to him anymore. Not that Harry can't read on his own, but Stefan makes the book come alive and he loves reading aloud. Well. He used to love reading aloud. Now any moment not spent with Katherine is a moment wasted. That means Harry doesn't get any time to alone with Stefan and anytime he'd like to just – bask in his brother's presence, Katherine is there and Harry feels awful and stupid for interrupting them.
So.
After a while, he stops trying to interject himself into Stefan and Katherine's highly intellectual conversation. He stops trying to get Stefan to read to him. He stops bothering Stefan and he stops – he stops everything, basically.
He wants Stefan to be happy and Stefan is happy without him. He doesn't want Stefan to feel any amount of brotherly obligation to include Harry in his excursions with Katherine, not when it's so obvious that Stefan's gearing up to court her and if he's lucky, he'd be married to her come fall. So he stays in his room for most of the day and he tries reading those tomes Stefan likes so much, he opens the presents father'd given him and he'd never opened, and he writes in his journal all the thoughts he locks away. ' I'm lonely' is often written but he's fine . He promises .
Half of March goes by swiftly, characterized by Harry's self-ostracism and Stefan's obliviousness. It's around the third week Harry falls ill, sickness spreading so quickly that by the eighth day, Harry knows he's going to die. By the ninth day, Stefan's hovering anxiously over Harry – tucking him and retucking him into his bed, bringing him soup and water, despite Harry's protests. He doesn't want Stefan to get sick and he doesn't want Stefan to watch him slowly waste away.
Harry sleeps for hours and hours while he's sick and unable to properly move. He dreams of simpler times and memories, when there wasn't a war brewing and all three Salvatore brothers were together and laughing. Stefan sits bedside to Harry, too anxious and tired to even properly focus on anything besides Harry's pained wheezes and feverish temperature. Both of them miss Katherine watching over the both of them, calculating gleam in her eyes.
Mystic Falls, April 1864
Damon,
I don't know if this letter will reach you in time but Harry is sick. I don't know if he'll make it. Please come home as soon as possible. Harry's getting weaker by the minute. He wants to say goodbye. Please don't let him die without seeing you. He needs you. We need you. I don't know if I can be strong for him. Please Damon. Come home. You need to come home as soon as you get this. Please.
Stefan.
Mystic Falls, May 1864
Damon gets Stefan's letter the third of May and with growing dread reads it and rereads it, hoping it was false. Some sort of trick or prank. But the handwriting is unsteady and there are warped areas of the parchment that Damon thinks were caused by tears. He takes a look at the date and his heart stops – the letter had taken nearly a month to get to him and with Stefan's description of Harry's illness, his youngest brother could already be dead.
Was he too late? Hopefully not. Even if he were only to see Harry moments before he passed – that'd be better than Harry being long dead with no chance for Damon to say goodbye. This was completely discounting Damon being against Harry dying so young, or even at all. But Damon would take what he could in the face of the harsh reality of the situation.
He doesn't ask for permission to leave. It's only a small chance that it'd be granted and it would only waste time. Damon deserts the confederacy that night, hoping against hope that he was going home to an alive little brother rather than a tombstone.
It takes four days to get home, taking train after train and walking to his childhood estate. Damon reads Stefan's letter again and again until the parchment is smooth and worn, the words burned into his head. By the time he reaches the doors to his home he's stricken with worry and doubt, wondering if ignorance would be better than the knowledge of knowing Harry was dead. If – if Harry was dead.
He lets out a deep breath and strides into his family manor, hit with a nostalgia so great it nearly brings him to his knees. He has to remind himself to continue breathing.
An elderly maid greets him at the door after a few minutes, not looking surprised in the slightest. "Everyone's gathered in Harrison's room."
Damon nods, unsteady on his feet, waiting for her to say more. "Is he … alive?"
The maid nods and gestures towards the stairs."They've been waiting for your return for some time now. Your father will be out for the day."
Damon mutters a quick thank you and races up the stairs and down the hall to Harry's room, grateful Harry had held on but unsure if he's ready to see his baby brother in such a vulnerable and sick state. He tentatively opens the door, wincing as it creaks halfway through.
To his surprise, astonishment, and happiness – it looks as if Harry isn't on his death bed. His youngest brother is propped up on his large bed, listening to Stefan read aloud with a radiant smile. At the sound of the door opening, they both turn to him and Damon watches as their eyes light up in recognition when they spot him.
"Damon! You're back!" Harry's voice is scratchy and rough, pitched a little lower than when Damon had left. He tries to get out of bed and run to Damon, presumably to hug him, but when he gets one foot on the floor he falls forward, body still weak.
Stefan catches Harry with ease, which makes Damon think Harry's tried to escape often, and tucks him back into his bed. "Harry, be careful," Stefan softly scolds. "You're still weak." After Harry gives his begrudging agreement not to move, Stefan turns to Damon, still standing in the doorway. "And you're late. What took you so long?" The tone is teasing, but there's something in Stefan's eyes that says it was rough not having Damon around – that Harry almost didn't make it, despite his healthy appearance now.
"I missed my train." Damon replies, half-serious, stepping into Harry's room and shrugging off his overcoat. "How're you, kiddo?" The question is directed at Harry, although Damon's looking anywhere but – too guilty, his mind on a constant loop of ' what if I hadn't made it in time' or 'what if he'd died.'
"I'm okay!" Harry chirps from his bed, arms held out imploringly. "I feel fine, but Stefan won't let me do anything besides work on my penmanship. And listen to him read."
Obliging, Damon steps forward into Harry's arms, embracing him tightly, still stuck on the thought of Harry almost dying, of Damon not being about to say goodbye before his baby brother passed. "It looks like you're doing a lot better. Stefan sent me a letter – he said you were really sick?"
Harry shrugs, seemingly uninterested in his recovery. Damon turns to Stefan for more answers. To his surprise, Stefan knows even less than Harry.
"It was a miracle," Stefan offers unhelpfully. "He was getting worse and worse every day – I thought …" There's a long pause where both the elder Salvatores stare at the youngest, who offers a flimsy smile at their scrutiny. "And then, last week he started getting better. I don't know what caused it or how, I'm just grateful it happened." Stefan nods and Damon pulls Harry into another hug, well aware how close they came to losing him.
" – Stefan? Is your father home?" The door opens goes from half-open to a wide arch, and into the room steps an elegant, poised— beautiful girl. That must be the Katherine that Stefan mentioned in his letter. Damon had no idea she'd be so beautiful.
"No – but he should be home soon, I suppose. My brother, Damon," Stefan says after noticing Damon staring at Katherine. "I don't think you two have met."
Damon smirks, a simple upward curve of the mouth that often had girls swooning. He's still half wrapped around Harry but his attention is all on Katherine, and she basks in it, smiling right back at him.
"No," Damon says, unaware his attractive to the girl would sow distance between brothers, destruction, and ultimately – death, "I don't think we have."
Mystic Falls, June 1864
Harry's recovery from sickness is swift and by the beginning of June, he's able to run, jump, and play as he used to without Stefan having a fit. A week into him being fully recovered, Harry almost wishes he were ill once more – with no reason to pay attention to him, his older brothers don't. Instead they fawn and follow Ms. Pierce around, trying to gain her favor. To Harry, it looks as if Katherine is playing a game and ultimately, one of his brothers is going to get hurt. They compliment her and fawn over her and Katherine smiles coyly and leads them on and on and on.
Harry's not jealous. He's angry.
He's angry that he's being pushed to the side like a common whelp. He's angry that Damon and Stefan only care about him when he's sick and he's so angry that Katherine changed his brothers so much they don't even bother coming in to say goodnight to him anymore. They don't bother with anything unless it has – in some part – something to do with Katherine.
Katherine this, Katherine that – Harry doesn't see how she could be so incredibly special that they'd be willing to lose every brotherly relationship they have to instead have her. Harry is – Harry is –
Alright.
He's jealous.
Harry's not important to Damon and Stefan anymore. It hurts. It hurts to see his brothers running around Katherine like chickens without heads, not giving a damn besides getting into her skirt. Sometimes Harry thinks they've forgotten about him – like Harry doesn't have to exist unless they want him to or they want to pay attention to him and it's become increasingly apparent that they don't want to spend time with him. He's jealous and angry and he's not proud of it – but he may have called his brothers mean things in his journal. Sometimes, when he's sad rather than angry he'll go back and scribble the words out and write entries like ' if they should just talk to me tomorrow, I'll eat my vegetables' or 'I miss them so much. I don't want to intrude but I do … I wish I was younger so I could interrupt their disgustingly smitten conversations without remorse.'
He spends more time with their father, who seems privately pleased by such an action. It's no secret that Giuseppe's favorite son was Harry, most in part because he looked most like their late mother and had her kind temperament. Harry learns important and very boring details about business and one or twice a week, Giuseppe even uncomfortably reads from Harry's favorite book to aid Harry in sleeping.
Although glad with his new-found closeness with their father, it doesn't make up for the distance between his brothers. Harry is now uncharacteristically melancholy and he skips meals. Giuseppe, knowing all too well how close the brothers once were, even offers to limit the time spent with Katherine in an effort to rekindle the bond between brothers but Harry declines.
He wouldn't want to bother them.
Mystic Falls, July 1864
Today was my birthday.
It was an alright affair. My favorite foods prepared for breakfast, lunch, and even dinner and dessert. I didn't eat too much of anything though – watching Damon and Stefan with Katherine curbed my appetite quite efficiently. Father got me many gifts – things I'd only mentioned in passing I'd wanted, things I'd dropped hints as to wanting. That made me smile.
Damon and Stefan seemed to remember I was their brother for the day and paid me any attention that wasn't on Katherine. That was nice. The three got me gifts as well – Stefan, an old tome I'm probably never going to read and he probably loved, Damon, a model ship, and Katherine, some quills. She promised to help me with my penmanship now that I'm better once more. Three months ago I'd have taken the offer with a bright smile. Now that I realize what a rotten manipulative girl she is, I declined. I'd rather have illegible handwriting than learn it from a girl leading on both of my brothers with no aspirations to commit to either of them when they're so clearly smitten with her.
After dinner the loving atmosphere faded and father retreated to his room and Damon and Stefan followed Katherine out of the house, off to some place. I didn't pay attention. I was angry. One of the maids offered to bring me some of the desserts up to my room if I'd like to ready myself for bed. I accepted and she should be here soon, but I suppose she has more important things to do than cater to me so I'm fine with waiting.
I'm so tired of Damon and Stefan treating me like I'm only alive when they need something. It hurts. Two years ago, they wouldn't have dreamed of such a thing. Now I'm living it every day. I miss my brothers and it hurts so much to know they don't miss me.
Harry Salvatore
July 31st, 1864
Mystic Falls, August 1864
Giuseppe was no idiot. He may not be completely in tune with his sons' needs but that had nothing to do with his calculating business prowess or his knowledge of the supernatural. And he knew there were vampires in the town.
He didn't know who they were or where they were hiding or even, what they ultimately wanted besides bloodshed – but the drained bodies added up, especially taking into consideration the bite marks and the brutal tearing of the flesh of the neck. He and several of the other quote-on-quote "founders," as the town and newspapers so liked to call them were in agreement – Mystic Falls was becoming overrun with the creatures and they had a duty to stop the vampires before the city paid dearly for it. Giuseppe, above all the other men, was even more motivated to rid the town of the infestation – he'd already almost lost Harry once before and these – things – had already made it apparent they had no qualms about going after women or children. Stefan and Damon – deserter he was – could defend themselves with the proper equipment and training. His youngest was so frail and easily-trusting – vampires would surely take advantage of such a trait. And so, Giuseppe was ready, willing, and eager to kill the things for the safety of the town and the continued longevity of his youngest son. There were only a few problems.
One, he had no idea who the vampires were. Jonathan Gilbert apparently had an answer to such a dilemma – a contraption of some sort that would allow detection of the undead. Giuseppe didn't question it, Jonathan had a strange, creative mind and any explanation of the device would surely have Giuseppe's head spinning. As long as it worked, Giuseppe didn't give a damn how it operated.
And two, ordinary life had to continue on – the founders had balls to plan, businesses to run—they couldn't just simply put to halt everyday life to hunt the supernatural. Not only would it be suspicious, but it would be impossible. Regular living must continue and vampire hunting, although important, must happen in any extraneous time – the founders must keep up appearances, after all.
Mystic Falls, September 1864
"No! Don't take her!"
"You'll be killed along with them!"
"Then let me be killed!"
Harry barely dares to breathe, his heart beating a rapid tattoo inside his chest. What was going on? Why was everyone screaming? About vampires, nonetheless?
Were vampires ... actually real? He'd only gotten a glance at his father's notes before and he'd only managed to make out a couple of words before his father quickly put them away - but the word vampire was always ever present on his father's notes. The word vampire and how to subdue them.
If ... Stefan and Damon were putting up this much of a fuss ... then that meant ... that someone close to them had to be a vampire. With the help of knowing that this person was a 'her' the picture came together fairly easily.
It was Katherine. Katherine was a vampire.
Harry exhales quietly, eyes closing against the terrifying knowledge that he'd been in the same room as a vampire, and his insides freeze with fear as he realizes that his brothers are, without a doubt, going to go after Katherine, where ever his father and his cohorts may be taking her. And Harry, the best little brother that he is, isn't going to let them go alone.
He opens his door quietly and tip-toes down the stairs - just in time to hear the tail-end of Damon and Stefan's conversation.
"Damon, we'll get her back - "
"Don't you think you've done enough -"
And then they leave, trailing after the carriage that Harry assumes is carrying Katherine, neither of them noticing Harry trailing them, too caught up in worry over Katherine to focus on anything other than that carriage.
Damon and Stefan stop when the carriage stops, settling in a clearing – various men that Harry recognizes from their visits to his father's office, looking nervous, but determined. He can barely hear his brothers talking from where he's hiding, but he gets the gist of what they'd whispered when Stefen shouts about another vampire, leading most of the men away and Damon circles around to catch the lone man guardian the carriage unawares, punching him hard in the jaw.
Harry inches closer and closer, looking anxiously between the direction that the men had disappeared to, and his brothers helping Katherine out of the carriage. He takes his eyes off of Damon frantically untying the rope holding Katherine's wrists together to see a man in the distance raising a gun and aiming it squarely at Damon.
He freezes for not even a half of a second and before he's consciously aware that he's moving, he's running, running, running and pushing his brother out of the way, a gunshot cracking in the near silence of the night, pain exploding in his lower abdomen.
" No! "
And then Damon's kneeling beside him, hands hovering over his wound -- eyes wide and face pale. "Harry, why – why didn't you just stay home – "
Harry shoulders heave and he tries to answer, but it's so painful to breathe and his vision is going black around the edges, and he can't get out a single word.
He's dying.
He's really dying this time. He's not going to miraculously recover, he's going to die .
It's not really that scary ... at least he'll see his mom ... at least his brothers are still alive –
Harry coughs one last time before his eyes go blank and his features slack, blood painting fine clothing like the most expensive of dyes.
There was cacophony and chaos in the background but Damon could see nothing but his injured baby brother. He kneels in something wet – please , not Harry's blood, please – hands hovering over the wound, all that military knowledge, that cool head vanishing in an instant. "Harry – Harry, please, – I'm so sorry , please don't leave me – "
Damon can hear Stefan in the background before a gunshot and he's silenced – Damon wants to run but he's stuck on Harry's glassy eyes and bloodied lips. Far away, there's the crack of a gun and Damon is in pain – eyes closing against the haunting image of Harry's lifeless form before everything goes black and the pain is gone.