He wasn't sure why he went to Alaric's grave.
Maybe it was because he couldn't stand the idea of all of them-those little children whispering their goodbyes and lighting stupid candles when they had a an enemy to kill. Or, more likely, it was because his own pain was too real, and seeing that look on Elena's face...
No, that couldn't be it. Damon Salvatore didn't feel that way.
He brought a bottle, of course, and he takes a long swig from it, and swallows hard. The alcohol tickles and burns as it slides, "like silk," As Stefan often claimed, down his throat. He talks for what feels like hours, talks about his anger and his annoyance and his pain, because Ric can't hear him anyway, but Damon would like to pretend that he can. Because that's what Ric always did. Listened.
He manages to include a little of his characteristic humor, because that's what always made Ric laugh, but it hurts.
This grief hurts.
He hasn't really had time to think about his best friend while in a while. He's been to preoccupied with Elena, and her throwing up blood, and Stefan's delusional childlike ways and Elena drinking from him, and the pastor blowing himself up to think on what he's lost.
He takes another long drink from his bottle. It's empty to soon and he raps it hard against Alaric's grave, just as he would have done to his friend's shoulder. He misses him. Misses having someone who didn't jump on his back about killing people all the times, misses having someone there that he can talk to and trust. Misses that feeling of having someone worried about him that wasn't his brother and wasn't his brother's girl.
He hasn't fed in too long, and his fang teeth ache in his gums. But he wants to stay here, alone and in the darkness, where he doesn't have to face Stefan's jealousy and Elena's hurt. He wants to sit here with his old friend(his friend's who's dead) and drink and talk like they used to do. Sitting at the Mystic Grill by himself is just to damn depressing, and Stefan always finds him there.
He won't find him here. Stefan probably thinks he's off snapping necks or feeding or something ripper-like.
In all honesty he's surprised he's not doing that. It's what he would have done before-
Before what? Before he met Elena? Before he moved back to Mystic Falls? Before Andie? Before Rose? Before Klaus? When did he stop killing people whenever he was upset?
He had still done it when Ric had been there-killed Alaric more than once in a fit of anger.
"You would laugh right now if you were here, you know that?" He says, throwing back his head and laughing at his own stupidity, and it comes out choked and tight. Is he crying? "Oh, you're making me cry, Ric," He snarls, almost playfully, and hurls the bottle into the woods. It shatters.
He finally leaves when the sun starts to come up, runs off back to the town, and Stefan's fury and Elena's pain and Bonnie's wallowing and Caroline's Tyler-obsession.
He runs back to the children. The children who are so, so young(With the exception of his brother, but Stefan will always be young in his eyes) who make him want to scream and kill and cry all at the same time. Who make him feel.
But he can't help but notice that they're missing one crucial member-the man who kept wooden bullets hidden in his shoes, who had an alter-ego and a drinking problem. Who's wife was turned into a vampire and who took on the responsibility of half-raising two teenagers.
And Damon doesn't know how they don't mention him more, how someone doesn't just say, "I wonder what Alaric would..."
He wants to, sometimes. But they have bigger and more important things to worry about than deaths in the past and old wounds.
And besides, he was Damon's best friend-not Stefan's or Caroline's or Elena's. Damon's.
And Damon doesn't know if he is grateful for that fact, or if he wants to damn Alaric to all the fiery pits of hell for making him care about a person the world could so easily break.