Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Memorial
"Floating lanterns in the sky. Can you believe that? Japanese lanterns is a symbol of letting go of the past. Well, here's a newsflash.. We're not Japanese."
Alaric sat quietly on the stone bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. His eyes fixed on Damon as he listened to what he was saying.
Damon rolled his eyes slightly at his own words, bringing the bottle of bourbon to his lips and taking a swig. ''You know what they are? Children. Like lighting a candle is going to make everything okay, or even saying a prayer.. Or pretending Elena's not gonna end up just like the rest of us murderous vampires. Stupid, delusional, exasperating little children.''
Alaric shook his head, a soft sigh passing his lips.. If Damon would even know he was listening this would never be happening. Damon's walls would fly back up, as always, and he'd be his sarcastic, asshole-ish self again. But the point was, he didn't. This was a side of Damon that he never showed anyone, and Alaric was more than grateful to take it in.
"And I know what you're gonna say.." Damon began, shifting on the tombstone where he sat. "Makes them feel better, Damon."
Alaric laughed softly, hearing his own words come out of Damon's mouth.
"So what? For how long? A minute? A day? What difference does it make?"
Alaric watched Damon as he pushed himself up and began pacing. He furrowed his brows as Damon spoke, continually looking from him, to the ground, and back. Not quite sure where to look at during such an emotional confession from his best friend. A confession that Damon didn't even know he was giving.
"Because in the end," Damon continued. "when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer is not gonna make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be. And a rock.." He said as he glanced down at Alaric's grave, furrowing his brows. "With a birth date carved into it that I'm pretty sure is wrong."
Alaric's eyes fell to the ground and he chuckled lowly, shifting his head so that he was looking to the side and away from Damon. The birth date on the tombstone was wrong.. But that wasn't why he was laughing. It was more the fact that Damon, hardass, emotionless Damon actually knew his birthday. He couldn't even remember discussing it with him, which meant he'd had to have gone out of his way to learn it. The laughter faded though as Damon sat back down on the tombstone and let out a breath, resting the bottle of bourbon on his knee and staring down at the ground.
"So.. Thanks, friend. Thanks for leaving me here to babysit. Because I should be long gone by now. I didn't get the girl.. Remember?'' Damon said, arching his brow by a slight. ''I'm just stuck here, fighting with my brother and taking care of the kids." Damon looked away for a moment before looking forward again and shifting.
Alaric, just behind him and to the right, stared at the tombstone on which Damon sat, gaze unfocused as he listened. Never before had he seen Damon so vulnerable, so open and weak.
"You owe me big." Damon took another swig of his bottle before placing it next to him and getting to his feet, turning around and walking away.
Fixating his gaze back on his own grave Alaric let out a quiet sigh, unable to watch Damon leave, a hint of sadness in his voice as he spoke.
''I miss you too, buddy.''