They were on their way to Alaric's apartment, walking in silence. The distance seemed longer with each step.
Once in a while, Alaric glanced quickly at Damon. It was visible that his thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier events that happened in the Salvatore Boarding House, but at least he knew that he'd screwed up. He looked guilty, scuffing his feet over the ground, as if his shoulders suffered from the weight of his conscience. Alaric knew that look so well. It felt like he'd never left.
"It's good you're back," Damon said abruptly, as if he were able to read Alaric's mind. "I hated walking around all by myself after screwing things up."
Alaric shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. This felt awkward. As awkward as anything else.
"I hated getting drunk alone," Damon stated, and Alaric chuckled without really wanting to.
"Just stop screwing things up, then there's no reason to get drunk," Alaric replied. He noticed that Damon rolled his eyes in this overly dramatic way that made anyone think those blue, blue eyes would jump at you any second.
"You don't get what I'm trying to do, right?"
Actually, he didn't have a clue. Alaric shrugged, still thinking about an answer when he noticed that Damon had stopped. He turned around to face him. Damon's jaw was clenched and his dark eyebrows made a hard straight line. He looked like he was about to screw something up.
"You're trying to make it right," Alaric said eventually. "I appreciate that. That's why I'm going to invite you into my flat… which is a nest of vampires and witches at the moment… Do you think Klaus will allow me to sleep in the bathtub?"
He had tried for a joke, tried to lighten the mood, but apparently Damon had lost his sense of humour.
"You're staying at ours of course," Damon snapped in a harsh voice that didn't allow any resistance. "We already have a vampire-safe-house. We should use it. And there are enough bedrooms for all our… friends…" Damon's eyes shifted from one side to the other, never focusing on Alaric. Almost like he was embarrassed to call Alaric his friend.
"Yeah… Since you don't have that many friends, I believe that," Alaric said with a smirk.
Damon reached out and slapped his hand on Alaric's chest. He didn't let go, but grabbed Alaric's shirt and pulled him closer. His blue eyes bored into him like nails.
"I thought we'd lost you," he said, his voice and face not giving away how he would have felt about this. He actually strangled Alaric slightly. "Like… forever. And like you said I don't have that many friends."
"Well, I'm still here," Alaric said, trying for a smile.
Damon tightened his grip, stealing Alaric's breath. "I would've killed you to get rid of Klaus. Afterwards I would've gotten drunk. Alone. Because I would've killed my only friend, and Klaus would've came back anyway. I would've totally screwed up."
Alaric enclosed Damon's wrist to pull the hand that strangled him away – he ended up patting it comfortingly. "You didn't screw that up. And we're going to fix this new mess now."
Damon's mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Ric," he started, moving his hand to Alaric's neck to keep him close or maybe kill him in the next moment, "I'm glad you're back."
Alaric was very glad that Damon let go of him again after this confession, even when it happened with a slap on his neck. He rubbed his tingling neck and smiled. Maybe it had not only bad results that he'd been in coma for a few days.
Although their walk to Alaric's apartment felt even more awkward now.