a/n: Episode Tag: Heart of Darkness.
Summary: Alaric's alter-ego comes out when Stefan's vulnerable from the return of The Ripper.
Just Beneath the Surface
Alaric groaned, he couldn't help it- not with the bruise that he used to consider his face.
Blood dripped from his nose and pattered onto the dirt floor between his hands. It was the sight of that that caused it, not the fact that Klaus killed him, or even Stefan trying to beat it out of him with little success- his alter-ego knowing that the vampire wasn't in it to win it- it was the sight of the blood, the feel of it on his skin, the warmth of it- the reaction that it cause in Stefan that brought Alar out to play.
And he did play, because he didn't make himself known to Stefan right away.
Alar let out a growl of frustration as he climbed angrily to his feet and swiped the blood from around his mouth with his sleeve. "This isn't going to work, you're not in it, Stefan!"
Stefan's jaw was clenched as he stared at the vampire hunter; he was trying to avert his gaze from the blood, but was struggling to do so. He'd never been good around Alaric's blood. "I am!" he managed.
"You're not." Alar contradicted, his eyes dancing around the young monster. "You have to drink my blood!" he blurted, taking a step towards him.
"What!" Stefan took a quick step back, but Alar kept coming and he was forced back against the wall. "I can't."
"You have to!" Alar grabbed the front of his shirt and got real close. "You have to drink, Stefan. You have to kill me, otherwise he won't ever come out."
"I can't control it," Stefan protested, unable to tear his gaze from the blood that marred Alaric's face. "I will kill you."
"That's the point," Alar told him.
"I can't!" Stefan growled and made to shove Alaric away, but his vampire-strength seemed to fail him and Alaric didn't even stumble back.
Alar looked away for a moment before he turned back to Stefan. "It's sad," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're one of nature's most hideous creatures and you can't even get that right."
Stefan looked at him, taken aback; the blood forgotten momentarily. Alaric's brown eyes, they weren't the ones that Stefan was so used looking into- instead a darkness lurked in their depths, and the grin on his lips was twisted. "You," he realized.
"Me," Alar agreed.
Stefan's muscles bunched, and this time was ready to throw alter-Alaric away for sure- but with his body right up against Stefan's, Alar could feel it. And so he was quick when he pulled his shank-stake from his pocket and held it nestled at the edge of Stefan's rib cage.
"Uh-uh," Alar tsked and Stefan froze stilling his movement. "That's right,"
"How long?" Stefan found himself asking, needing to know.
"Not long," Alar admitted. "But I wish it was."
"So what are you going to do, kill me?"
Alar shook his head. "No. As much as I'd relish the action and result, it would seem that little old Alaric has a different emotion on the matter. And we can't have him acting out, now can we?"
Stefan wasn't sure what to make of that; Alar was smiling at him and he found it unnerving- it wasn't the usual tilt that accompanied Alaric lips, the ones that he always found himself staring at.
"Why so quiet?" Alar inquired. "I thought there was something that you wanted from me, Stefan."
"I didn't see the point, as you have the advantage,...?"
"Call me Alar."
"Alar." Stefan repeated with force, the name seemed to match the darkness and he was glad he didn't have to refer to this man as 'Alaric', because this wasn't Alaric.
"Don't sound so sad," Alar told him. "You should be grateful."
"So then what do you want?" Stefan demanded, jerking forward. He felt the tip of Alar's roughly made stake pinch his flesh.
Alar laughed. "Have any of you ever considered the fact that maybe I have feelings too. That it makes me sick to think that the other me has become friends with the enemy, fallen for him."
Stefan was confused. "So Alaric found out that not all vampires are killers."
A sharp bark left Alar's lips this time ask he scoffed. "Say's the worst of them all."
"I'm not The Ripper," Stefan said through barred teeth.
"Contrary to the fact that you were going to eat my face moments before."
"I don't eat people,"
"Oh, yeah. That's right, you just drain them dry until there's nothing left but a husk and streams of blood."
"You're wrong," Stefan said weakly.
"Really? You're weak and pathetic; you were a poor excuse for a human and now you're a waste of space that lasts forever." Alar whispered harshly into his ear.
Stefan knew that this wasn't really Alaric; it was just his appearance, his voice, his eyes... He was finding it harder and harder; his protests had been weak from the beginning, and now, when he opened his mouth, nothing came. No protest, nothing. He didn't understand how what Alaric- Alar- was saying was cutting so deep. He'd heard this before, Damon never shut up, but this was different. Damon was his brother, and though he thought that their relationship was getting better- roughly so- there was still that under current of I'm going make your life like hell on earth. With Alaric it was different, it wasn't like they were friends like Damon and him, more like their relationship was based on similar friends. But there was something different, and this night that they spent in the basement, drinking and talking- something he could never do with Damon- they just clicked. But now... he didn't know what the hell was going on.
"The look in your eyes tell me that you're in agreement with my observation." Alar told him.
"Have you had you're fun yet?" Stefan was sick.
"Poor little you," Alar mocked, "I'm a monster; the girl that I love, loves my brother. Get over yourself, you piece of shit! Even if I could kill ya, I wouldn't do it because you're a monster, I'd do it 'cause I pity you."
Stefan's jaw muscles were jumping as he ground his teeth. He didn't want pity! That pissed him off; he was over a hundred years old. "Then do it," he growled, his eyes slits. "I mean, from where I am, you're all talk."
Alar's lips twisted. "Look's like the puppy got his bark back."
"And it seems that all you are." it was something in his head, that just snapped. He didn't know what it was, but right now, he was being stupid, but he didn't care. Alar could jam that stake up under his ribs and he could just feel the prospect of laughter well up inside his chest. And right now, he kinda wanted it.
"You're not a Council member," Alar said thoughtfully. "But you could be an exception." he reasoned, pushing the shank-stake into his ribs.
Stefan gave him shark teeth and without warning, shoved Alar. The man flew across the open space and hit the brick wall. It cracked from the force and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Stefan waited a moment, but Alar was still and he feared that he'd accidentally killed the man.
"Alaric?" Stefan called and rushed over to the man. He reached out and touched his shoulder. Alaric groaned, and Stefan felt relief flood him. "Are you okay?"
Alaric's eyes flickered. "It's like I was rammed into a brick wall." he groaned painfully.
Stefan winced. "Yeah. That was me."
Alaric sat up and leaned against the wall with Stefan's help. "Jeez. What the hell happened?"
"Well, your evil-self came around."
"Yeah? Did I- he, say where the stake was?" Alaric asked.
"We did have a conversation, but he never said where he put it."
Alaric's expression fell.
"But I did get an idea as to where t might be," Stefan said with slight hesitation.
"Good." Alaric breathed. "'Cause whatever happened, I don't want to go through that again."
"This might help," Stefan said, handing him the bottle of whisky.
Alaric took it. "Thank god,"
"Didn't know you were a religious man," Stefan commented.
"Neither did I,"
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