A/N: I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

A/N: I know another damned story….I really shouldn't but what the Hell huh? I'm stealing Brooklyn away from Dean for a bit but don't worry I'll put her back afterwards.

"Are you really this stupid?" Damon had his back turned to Alaric who stood with stake in hand. He sensed how angry the man was after his little goading at the auction earlier that evening. About how delicious his wife tasted that night. The vampire turned around to face the history teacher and stared with disgust in his eyes.

"Guess so," he took a drink of whiskey from the tumbler.

Alaric heard the vampire's cold uncaring tone echo in his mind as he found himself sitting at the bar of the Mystic Grill. He had told Jenna that he would need to take a rain-check on their date and promptly retreated to the bar. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he lifted the solid tumbler to his waiting lips. The liquid fire of Jack did little to soothe his nerves but continued to drink nonetheless.

"Another please," the bartender nodded and refilled the empty glass until it brimmed with golden amber. As he took another drink the events of earlier continued playing in his mind.

Damon set his drink down and advanced on the man. With a powerful thrust of his hand, the vampire sent Alaric across the room watching him slide across the hardwood floor. Alaric groaned in pain as he landed in front of the fireplace but wasn't deterred by the show of power. Slowly he got back on his feet with the stake still tight in his grip. Damon watched as he rose to face him, slightly crouching down. He staggered slightly as the hit had thrown him off balance.

"Are you gonna put down the stake?" Sarcasm rolled off Damon's tongue. Alaric didn't respond.

"Wow, that's courage," Damon said dryly.

"Where's Isobel?" Alaric demanded. Damon started towards him with a knowing look in his eyes.

"What did you do to my wife?" Desperation was now breaking through in his voice. Alaric fought back his anger and rage towards the vampire as he kept his eyes on the creature before him.

"Want me to tell you I killed her? Will that make you happy?" Damon spat while closing the space between them. He paused by the opposite wall and continued his torment.

"Because I think you know what happened."

"I saw you feeding on her," Alaric continued shifting his body in sync with Damon's.

Alaric set the glass down as it suddenly felt heavy in his hand. Perhaps it was the gauntlet of emotions coursing hard through him as the sickening reality had started to sink in. He remembered the night he came home to see Damon feeding on his wife then vanish into the night never to be seen again – until a few weeks ago when he saw him at the same bar he drank at now. He waved for another drink.

"I did," Damon responded truthfully. "I wasn't lying. She was delicious."

Unchecked disgust and hatred raged through his soul as the vampire freely confessed how he feasted on Isobel and felt no remorse or guilt for his actions. Alaric felt as if his heart was being ripped out with every loathsome foul word coming from Damon's mouth. He charged the vampire but Damon was anticipating his attack. Damon curled his fist and belted the human in solar plexus stopping him cold in his tracks. Alaric stumbled over and backwards in pain as Damon started up again.

"Come on what do you think happened? Not an inkling? You never considered the possibility?" Damon hovered over the human as he struggled to his feet. The force of the blow to his body had weakened Alaric some but he wasn't giving up. He turned to look up through the pain as Damon made the ultimate confession.

"I turned her," the three words rocked Alaric to his core. The vampire was lying! He had to be! There was no way she was one of them! No! Never!

Alaric tossed a twenty on the bar and left unaware that he was being watched. The red haired woman sat quietly in a booth with her laptop open and a bottle of beer to her right. She had been studying the brown haired man ever since he staggered in and started slamming down whiskey the second he was seated. Something was wrong, something that deeply disturbed him- she could feel it. That was the problem with being an empath- All emotions were felt good or bad. She quickly closed her computer down and hurried out the door.

The streets of Mystic Falls were quiet as Alaric walked with a hurried step. He wanted to get home, close out the pain and hurt that resided comfortably in his heart. The words of the vampire had wounded him deeply though he didn't let it show outwardly. He loved Isobel with everything he had and yet all along she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy with him or her life and that hurt more than anything.

"Why?" He asked.

"She came to me," Damon answered defensively. "All pathetic, looking for vampires. There's something about her I liked. Something special."

"You turned her," Disbelief remained in Alaric's voice though a part of him knew it was true. "You lied."

"No, I slept with her because I liked her. I turned her because she begged me to," Damon flashed a brief but smug grin as Alaric could only stare.

"But then you knew that too didn't you? Hmm," Damon looked down upon the pathetic looking human. He was weak and feeble even then as he continued panting hard to breathe.

"Guess she wasn't happy at home. Wasn't happy with life in general, wasn't happy with you," Damon made it a point to emphasize Alaric in the final words. Alaric had had enough of his mouth and made a last attempt to kill the vampire. He lunged for Damon who was a few feet away but the vampire's reflexes were by far more superior. Damon caught his arm and bent it back impaling Alaric with the stake. The sharp stabbing of the wooden pike in his chest was like a fire that burned uncontrollably. Alaric cried out in pain as Damon kept the stake firmly in place.

"It's a shame, we're kindred spirits," Alaric didn't hear him as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. "Spurned by the women we love….Unrequited love sucks."

Indifferent to his suffering, Damon tugged the stake out hearing the blood coated object slide through ripped flesh and muscle. He heard the pants turn to rasps for air as he knew the damage been done.

"Sounds like I got a lung, so I get to sit here and watch you die," Damon released him watching as he collapsed to the floor. Blood rushed from the wound and soaked the red shirt and jacket before turning saturated causing the rug to turn crimson with the dying man's blood.

Alaric could remember with frightening detail how he coughed and fought to breathe while the hole in his chest robbed him of precious life. His last thoughts had turned to Isobel and the question of why. Why would she do that? Did she not love him the way he loved her? The sorrow of learning his wife left him of her own will and became one of had sapped his will to fight while the wound inflicted took care of the body. He remembered everything going dark as he was certain Death was waiting for him and he took what was certainly his last breath. But he and Stefan were both stunned when he sprung back to life on the floor.

Stefan sat beside the still form of Alaric while Damon callously explained what happened- his words of course.

"I assume you'll take care of this?" His brother rose and left the room, no remorse in his voice or eyes as the body of the history teacher was sprawled out on their floor. Stefan sat with wrists and hands on his knees feeling sympathy and remorse for the man. He didn't deserve this, none of Damon's victims did.

As he debated his next move, movement caught his eye. Alaric's fingers moved then his wrist. That was impossible unless….

Alaric shot up coughing and breathing hard for air. His hands immediately went to the wound while his eyes went to Stefan. How did he get here? When did he get here? How was he still alive?

"What happened? What's going on?" He panted and looked around to see Damon had left. Coward. Stefan attempted to calm the anxious man down but had to ask him.

"Did Damon turn you?"

"No, I uh went for him and he stabbed me," Alaric couldn't feel the gaping hole anywhere on his chest.

"No you must have vampire blood in your system, someone slipped you some," Stefan argued but Alaric shook his head. "No, it must be something else," he curled and uncurled his fingers and looked around his surroundings.

"How?" Stefan asked. Alaric looked down at his hand, rather at the ring on his hand. It was then he knew how.

"Isobel," it was the ring she gave him.

Alaric stopped on the sidewalk and pulled his hand from the jacket pocket taking a hard look at the ring. Whatever it was it protected him from harm. He had laughed off Isobel's words thinking it was nothing, that she was teasing him when in reality she was keeping him safe.

The woman paused and watched Alaric as he stared at the ring on his hand. Though she couldn't see it, she could feel it brought him comfort and security, two things it seemed he was lacking. Alaric started up again unaware of the woman behind him.

Damon watched from the shadows as Alaric walked down the street. How could he be still alive?!!? He died before his eyes!! Something was wrong, very wrong. His eyes darted to the woman walking several feet behind him. There was something familiar about her but couldn't put his finger on where he had seen her. No matter though as he would finish the job he started.

Okay.....lay it on me!!!