So I decided to write a TVD fic because well...today's episode really annoyed me. Ironically this doesn't have anything to do with that episode it just has Alaric and Damon in it. Yeah. First time writing either character so if their ooc that's why. I tried my best on it though. Anyway carry on.

It was funny, in a not-so-funny way.

Things never seemed to turn out right where he was concerned. He was bad luck, and he'd known that the moment his wife had been killed—turned—because things had been going wrong since then. Still, he always held onto something that would help him move forward. Whether it was revenge on the vampire that had killed—turned—his wife, or whether it was…hope…it was something. He had been holding onto hope a lot more than anything else lately. Hope had fueled him into a relationship with Jenna. He had hoped that it would last, that their future wouldn't end in a grim demise. For a moment he had forgotten he was bad luck. But reality always reared its ugly head and things came crashing down again. So instead of hoping for anything, he took to drowning his sorrows because hope did nothing for him. Hope would just lead to more and more disappointment. He had had enough disappointment for a life time. Unfortunately, it wouldn't let him hide forever and people always tried to drag him out of his cynicism. He let them, too, wanting someone to do something, because the truth was he never really stopped hoping that things would change.

Change did always come, just not in the way he had hoped, and always in the way he dreaded. This time had been no different. He found it rather funny, except it wasn't really funny at all. He wasn't even sure what to call this screw up or even if it was his own. He knew that he was partly to blame. Elena nor Jeremy were his children, but he had a responsibility towards them as their caretaker. He'd failed them both, just as he had failed his wife, like he'd failed Jenna and this situation was not rectifiable. Things in Mystic Falls always seemed to spiral out of control, especially when someone was stuck in the midst of the supernatural entities that flocked to the town. Their plans never worked the way they should have. Some variable, some random mishap, something always happened to get in the way. This time, it had been Elena. He shouldn't have been surprised. She was the kind of person that hated others to be hurt for her case. Things usually tended to revolved around the teenager. People died to save her because she was the type of a person people wanted to trust. Elena was easy to befriend, easy to get entangled with. Unfortunately, everyone who had died now had been sacrificed for nothing. Klaus had taken off with Elena.

Teenagers always thought their plans were better than anyone elses. They thought they knew everything. He knew this because he had been a teenager once. He had thought he'd known everything. It had only taken him years into adulthood for him to realize that he knew nothing. Even now, when he had thought that maybe, just maybe, he knew something…

No one listened to him, though. God forbid they did. Someone might actually survive for once. He was left on the sidelines as usual. He was back-up, never quite useful enough for him to be on the frontlines like everyone else. Even Jeremy seemed more useful, even though now the brooding, impetuous teenager had a grave marked for himself in the cemetery and that wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. He was sick of this town, sick of plans that never worked, sick of people that left him behind. He was out of whiskey.

It was that thought that had led him to the room he had taken up residence in the Gilbert home and began packing his bags. Most of his things were still at his apartment but he had been living in the house for months and things had accumulated. The suitcases were packed relatively quickly and put in the back of his trunk. The same happened with the most important things in his apartment and the rest…well someone would find use for the stuff, he was sure.

Just as he was putting away the last of his belongings the very familiar, very unwelcome voice spoke from a few feet away. He shut his eyes as he slowly closed the trunk, leaned against it and turned his attention towards the speaker.

"Where you goin' 'Ric?" Damon was standing a few feet away, wearing a curious expression on his face. The vampire closed the distance between them, leaning against the car as he waited for a response.

"What do you want Damon?" Alaric asked instead, not in the mood for the brunet's games.

"Just came by to see how you were doin'." Damon responded nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Didn't know you were taking a road trip, though."

Alaric snorted at that, dropping his gaze to the ground for a moment before bringing his brown orbs back on Damon. "You could say that."

"Where you headed?"

"Don't know." He responded honestly, shoving hands into his pockets. "Away from here."

Damon was quiet at that. The smirk on his face faded and he let out a sigh, before the mask was back up again. Sometimes, Alaric forgot that Damon was far older than he was. Sometimes, he forgot, that in comparison, he was just a child. Damon never reminded him of this, whether or not he even noticed that Alaric forgot. Stefan made him forget too, probably because he was a perpetual teenager despite his 160 years. For a moment, he wondered if he should say goodbye—except he remembered Stefan was dead.

"Town's getting old, huh, Ric?" Damon was smirking again, even though he didn't have to. Alaric already knew it was all an act, just like his smiles were just an act. They were far too similar sometimes for the blonde's liking.

"I can't stay here anymore, Damon." Alaric said seriously, moving around the car opposite from the vampire. "It's not worth it."

And with that, the blonde opened the car door and slid inside. Not a second later was Damon sitting in the car as well. Somehow he couldn't find it inside him to be surprised.

"What are you doing, Damon?" He asked, because he knew he had to.

"Can't have you missing me now." Damon smirked. "Besides, it might be fun, just the two of us."

"I'm not one of your fuck buddies."

"Of course not." A pause. "You're more than that."

For a moment, Alaric wasn't sure how to respond to that. He decided he didn't have to, at least not seriously. The key went into the ignition and he turned it, hearing the smooth sound of the engine roaring to life. He snorted.

"Is this the point where I blush like a school girl and confess my undying love for you?

"You could do that." Damon shrugged, getting comfortable in the passenger seat. "Or we could have steamy hot car sex."

Alaric rolled his eyes, took the car out of park and started driving.