A/N: My first, and most likely only foray into the Vampire Diaries world since this world is diametrically opposed to my real love of the Winchester brothers, but the Salvatores are cute too. I like Damon. In fact, I only watch the scenes he's in. And if Alaric's with him, all the better. ^_^

Admittedly, I only just got into this show over the break, but I haven't found any stories where someone takes care of Damon. I feel bad for the poor thing. He just wants to be loved. Apologies if the characters aren't spot on, but I've only seen a few episodes.

Also, if anyone knows where I can find some hurt/sick/insane/etc…Damon, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Anyway, I do hope you enjoy the fic. Much hurt!Damoness ahead as well as caring!Alaric with some added worried Elena and Stefan on the fringe.

Summary: Damon chooses to save his friends in a truly selfless act. Now his friends have to save him and hope they're not too late. Much hurt!broken!Damon and some Alaric/Damon slash, but nothing anywhere near graphic.

These Wounds

The heavy door gave under one last kick. Allowing himself a moment of smug pride, Alaric quickly descended the stairs into the basement, no need to be quiet since everything in the house knew they were there already. He hadn't even reached the bottom when he spotted what they'd come for.

"Damon?"

The teacher's voice was tight and breathy. Damon's arms were tied above his head, hanging from the ceiling. Blood covered the room's walls in inelegant splotches showing directionality, where the blows had come from and how hard and Alaric was never watching CSI again because he didn't want to know that. Red dripped steadily from the vampire, a pool around his dangling feet.

Alaric didn't waste any more breath calling out. It was clear that Damon was either unconscious or just unresponsive. Trying not to think of the reasons for that, Alaric ran to Damon's side and quickly began working on the manacles binding the vampire's wrists above his head. He was careful to control his movements, lest he be teased for the rest of his life for worrying about a badass vampire like Damon Salvatore in the first place.

Getting one wrist free, Alaric grew even more concerned as the other man didn't make a sound. His shoulder joints had to be dislocated. Letting one drop like that should have been excruciating, even for Damon.

"You could help me out a little here, ya know." Alaric kept up the dialogue in the absence of Damon's voice. Normally, he could hardly get a word in, the dead space filled up with snark and stories, once or twice even with real emotion.

Alaric wrapped an arm around Damon's waist as he undid the other cuff clumsily with one hand. It was more awkward, but Damon wasn't supporting himself and Alaric found himself unable to just let him fall.

"Who knew you could be chivalrous enough to save someone with no benefit for yourself." Alaric smirked nervously. "Let alone get yourself caught, huh Damon?"

Finally freed, Alaric eased Damon to the ground, laying him flat on his back. He winced, knowing the wounds on his back were bad, had to be painful, but all of him was hurt, cut up, and he had to lie somehow. Alaric took a moment to listen to the sounds of the fight in the other room. It sounded like a bloodbath and their side was coming out on top. Elena was a force unto her own when something she loved was threatened. And Stefan…

Whatever else was between the Salvatore brothers, bonds of hatred or fate or betrayal, the visceral and primal bond of true and real love for each other was paramount. Stefan was one righteously pissed off brother and these bastards were going to pay for hurting Damon.

Stefan's face had turned to his vampire appearance and, though he wasn't eating the humans present, Alaric was damn sure they would have preferred it to what Stefan was actually likely to do to them. Stefan had growled out a, 'Find Damon', before the slaughter, but Alaric was already off and running.

"Damon? Damon, hey!" Alaric grabbed the vampire's face, forcing his lolling head to still and look at him. Damon's eyes were barely open and not focusing well. The edges of the stone floor around Damon were wet with fresh blood, deep lash marks on his back still bleeding. In fact, Alaric could see no wounds that were healed. Some looked like they had attempted to close, but hadn't quite made it.

"Shit!" This was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Sparing only a moment to think of the irony of being concerned that a dead man might be dying, Alaric ran his knuckles down Damon's ribcage roughly in an effort to rouse him.

Nothing.

Huffing out a breath and quickly making sure that his ring was securely on, Alaric cut his arm. Hissing, he brought it to Damon's mouth. Still, the man didn't move. Brow furrowed, Alaric placed his other hand behind Damon's head, tilting him up and pressing his arm more forcefully against blueish lips.

"Damon, come on, dammit! What's wrong with you?"

Blue eyes rolled up sluggishly, locked on the teacher's face, and Alaric froze.

There was nothing there. Nothing of Damon in those blue depths. Breathing picking up, Alaric ground his arm against the vamp's closed mouth.

"No. Damon, you have to. I've got my ring. You have to. Come on. Work with me here. Please!" he refused to acknowledge that he was pleading.

A few moments of silence as they just stared at each other. Something sad and breakable in the injured man's eyes that Alaric had only ever glimpsed before. Damon managed a small smirk, resigned, apologetic, and tired. Everything that Damon Salvatore was not. His eyes slipped closed and he went completely limp.

Alaric wasn't sure, but he thought his own heart might have stopped.

"No."

Laying the unconscious vampire flat again, bloody fingers pressed open Damon's mouth. He bled into him, stroking his throat to make him swallow.

"Come on, come on…"

Force-feeding a vamp his own blood had never been on Alaric's to do list, but this…he couldn't let Damon go. Something inside him simply forbid it.

He kept that up, filling Damon's mouth with blood, forcing him to swallow, and praying it would be enough. He kept going until a hand laid on his shoulder. He looked up to see Elena smiling weakly at him, tears in her eyes.

Looking back, Stefan had appeared on Damon's other side, looking at his brother with a worried frenzy to him that Alaric had only seen in him when Elena was in trouble.

"He wouldn't drink." Alaric blurted out. "He just looked at me. He wouldn't drink."

The alarm in Stefan's eyes made him regret the words. The younger vampire nodded.

"We have to get him out of here."

Alaric found himself already moving to lift the lighter man up, but Stefan stopped him.

"You're too weak." 'From bloodloss', he knew how it was meant, but it still struck every sore spot he had. Couldn't protect Isobel, couldn't protect Damon. "And I'm faster."

Stefan got on arm underneath his brother's legs and another behind his back, lifting Damon like it was nothing. The way Damon's head lolled back and his arms dangled down loosely was one of the most terrifying things Alaric had ever seen. And he had seen so much.

It was only a glimpse though, because as soon as Stefan barked at him to get Elena home safely, he was gone, brother in tow.

It happened so quick. Alaric found himself staring at the mess of blood where Damon had been, frozen. He had tried to kill Damon, Damon had tried, and succeeded in killing him, many times before. But the attempts had gone from deadly serious to good natured, albeit usually painful, jests.

Sideways signs of affection.

A voice called his name, snapping him out of his trance. He looked to see Elena over him, asking if he was alright.

"…Yeah." He shook his head to clear it. "Yeah…are you okay? We should go."

Elena's eyes went sad and sympathetic, empathetic; in the strange way that she could relate to having a vampire lover and all the trials and pain that went with it. Damn, she had always been able to read people fairly well and it wasn't like he or Damon hid anything, they just didn't broadcast it.

Finally nodding, Elena helped him up. Shaking off the lightheadedness and sudden panicked surge of 'did he get enough?', 'is he alright?', 'why wouldn't he drink?', 'he couldn't have gotten enough', he stood.

They made their way out of the basement that would haunt Alaric's dreams for a long time to come and out to the car.

They said nothing to each other as they drove back to town. To the mansion, to their lives.

And to the two brothers who had become their worlds.