A/N: Set when Damon trashed Stefan's room.

Alaric watched from the doorway, lips pressed tight and brow creased in worry.

Damon stood in the middle of the wreck of Stefan's room. He breathed, harsh and hitching, and Alaric wasn't fool enough to account the shaking of Damon's shoulders to an actual need for air.

Anger gone, all Damon was left with was the loss, the crushing grief. Alaric dug his fingers into the doorframe, physically restraining himself from rushing toward Damon. The vampire wouldn't welcome a comforting hand or open arms, not right now. But this, Alaric could do; bear silent witness to the incomprehensible grief of one who found himself an only child for the first time in his life.

The vampire collapsed to his knees and wide blue eyes scanned the scene around him like a lost child. When those pleading eyes finally turned up to Alaric, the man finally allowed himself to move.