Double trouble...but like...times four so it's eight? - OC spanking story

Party 2 - concequences

Time seemed to crawl away slower than ever before.

Dylan was still sitting in front of the cell, watching all of his brothers. He send a quick message to Zac to be careful when he returns home, to be quiet and not ask any questions. He promised him to tell everything once everybody calms down for a bit.

He looked back at his brothers. He couldn't even look at Damon and the shape he was in. It wasn't about injuries, about blood and tears, it was about his mental state. And right now, his mental state seemed to be a mess. So instead, he focused on others.

They were all in bad shape. Peter, with bandage on his head, and Grant with his crown. They still haven't woken up, and Stefan curled up in a ball, leaning on Damon's shoulder, fast asleep. Jamie sat opposite of them, with hands cuffed behind him and legs brought up to his chest, curled up as tight as he could. His chin was resting on his knees and he was staring sleepily at Peter, fighting to stay awake.

Dylan yawned, battling with his own nerves and tiredness. He tapped his leg, send some messages to Scott, and in the end decided to wait for Oliver and Dean outside of the station. He should've drank his ADHD pills hours ago, and that coffee wasn't helping, either. Knowing he soon wouldn't be able to sit still, he stood up and murmured something before leaving. Nobody reacted.

Damon was tired, and cold, and he felt awful. There was nothing he wanted to do more than sleep, but his nerves wouldn't let him. He was shivering, but couldn't find the strenght to ask for a blanket. He didn't really deserve it, did he? He just let everyone down.

However, as the minutes crawled away, his body relaxed without his will. He found himself resting his head on top of Stefan's, although he still didn't close his eyes. He just couldn't. What if something happens? What if Grant wakes up feeling ill? What if Peter starts shaking? If he has a fever? Does he have a fever? Is he still breathing? Is he alive? Should he check? Should he check the others?

He was just so tired. So cold. So scared. His mind was showing him all the worst case scenarious, and he had no strenght left to fight them. Lost in his own mind, he didn't even notice as the sounds started fading and drowning in the background. He didn't notice the way colors disappeared from his eyesight. He didn't notice he couldn't see, nor that he couldn't think. Eyes still half opened and staring at the wall, he drifted away.

Gentle hand was touching his cheek, echoing voice calling him back.

„Damon?" It looked like Oliver. It couldn't be Oliver...he smelled like Oliver. It was Oliver! And he fell asleep!

„NO!" He jumped, panic erasing any sign of slumber he was in just moment before. He catapulted in the air, fighing to get on his feet. Oliver was pushed back, and Dean's hands pressed him back down to the floor.

„Woah, kid, calm down!" His voice was soft, and face concerned. There was still anger pulsing in bottom of his eyes, but it was burried deep under worry. No matter how angry he obviously was, he still tried to help.

It just made Damon feel worse. Coming back to his senses, he stopped struggling and looked fearfully at Dean's face. Behind him, Oliver was staring at Damon with expression identical to Dean's. Looking around, he noticed all of his brothers were still in the room. Dylan was waking Jamie up, and Stefan stood fearfully next to the door, looking down and hugging himself. Peter and Grant slept peacefuly on the floor.

„You fine?" Dean asked. Damon nodded, looking away. He couldn't breathe from the lump in his chest. „Sorry." He mumbled.

Dean sighed, pulling him on his feet by his arm. He looked at him with a somewhat confused, and somewhat angry expression. „You're wet." „I know."