I intend to stick with Alaric/Jenna until her death, but these two will definitely get together at some point. Like, when I will have gotten past season 2. Alaric is faithful in my mind, Isobel put aside, because she's a bitch.

Friendship is good too, and this one is pretty interesting eitherway, so...


Adjusting to our reality, part 2: Stay here, please

Damon was busy elaborating evil schemes about who knew what – not even himself knew for sure, so – when he heard the door open.

He frowned for a second, wondering who would be dumb enough to come into the Salvatores' house without being invited when Stefan was away. In fact, even people who were actually invited in the house had to be stupid or compelled to come, because, well, everybody amongst those who were part of the supernatural farce of Mystic Falls knew that the vampire was something of a frantic killer. It was really a wonder some people still cared about him.

It might have been the reason why there weren't many of them.

Actually, there were only Elena and Stefan. But the two of them were at Elena's.

So, who could it be?

Damon was soooo curious about it, and yet didn't want to show that he actually had emotions.

There were days like that, he just felt playful.

Drinking bourbon all morning might have had some impact on his mood, too.

He could have blurred to the front door, but it would have made too much noise. Drunk as he was, he had every chance to bump into something – such as a wall or even the door. If the person out there knew about his kind, the surprise would be no more. So he went to the entrance of the boarding house, making the less noise possible, and stayed still next to the door.

Funny thoughts were rampaging in his brain, and the vampire guessed he really had had too much to drink. But, eitherway, there was no reason for him not to enjoy his drunkenness.

So he reached for the door handle, and pushed. The door creaked open.

But the visitor didn't come in. Damon's mind was so clouded he couldn't understand why the whole thing might feel very suspicious. The vampire frowned, trying very hard to get why no one had entered yet.

Luckily, a voice came from outside and explained it to him.

"You know that doors opening by themselves are never a good sign in a horror movie, don't you, Damon?"

Some movies came to the vampire's mind, with open doors that slammed shut as soon as the character was inside the house, and then the ghost freaked the shit out of the poor guy or the psychotic killer started dismembering him or the monster began eating him. He smiled when he came up with one where it was a vampire who drank and drank and drank and the victim just died of blood loss, because, you see, the bad guy was such a glutton.

Damon wasn't sure why, but right now, it sounded hilarious.

Alaric heard a chuckle coming from nearby. He sighed and came in.

To say the truth, he was kind of surprised to find the vampire laughing silently and alone in the hallway like an idiot, so stunned he could have been drinking for the whole morning, the night before that and even the afternoon that came before. Never before he had seen Damon in such a state. The teacher had even had that idea that alcohol could do no more to his more-or-less-friend than make him do inconsiderate things.

Such as, going on a killing spree.

But always with a sharp tongue, and a seemingly conscious state of mind.

Because, well, sometimes he did things he didn't have to do. And that happened a lot more when the vampire was emotionally unstable, or drunk – or both, as the second often came from the first.

Alaric arched an eyebrow. Apparently, even Damon Salvatore could get stone drunk, and at this exact moment, he was well on his way to.

When the fact that Ric had come in processed to his brain successfully, Damon blinked and began staring at the man. He pursed his lips, came closer, looked into Alaric's eyes very cautiously, and stayed still. Maybe he was trying to see in these eyes which ones of his own thoughts were accurate.

Ric stiffened. He had vervain with him, but yet, Damon's gaze was disturbing.

"What are you doing here?"

The vampire's breath was mostly made of alcohol vapor, so Alaric took a step back.

"Keeping up appearances. I'm still supposed to be your brother's teacher, and you his guardian. Which means, I have to talk with you about his school attendance."

"You're joking, right?"

"You'd prefer me to ask for an appointment?"

Bells had begun a salsa in Damon's ears, which was very strange since the music wasn't supposed to be played with bells. Each of Ric's words were swallowed in bell sounds, and for what he knew, the hunter could have been talking about flying cucurbits.

Alaric made his way to the living room.

"As far as I'm concerned, I know why he hasn't been present, but I figured I could come in, wait for ten minutes, go out, and then pretend we talked about it."

Alaric could see the mess that seemed to prevail in the room, yet said nothing.

There were emptied blood bags all over the coffee table, and three glasses in the middle. One was full of bourbon, another one was covered in blood trails, and the third one contained what seemed to be a mix of blood and liquor. Apparently, Damon had tried the mixture, hated it, and spat on the couch. Dozens of bottles laid on the ground besides, most of these half empty.

Ric sat down in an armchair and glanced up at the vampire.

"I see you've been busy since last time we saw each other."

"Yup. I spent a lot of time doing very productive thinking about a way to get Katherine out of my head for good. And I discovered that nothing solves humans and their fellow's problems better than booze."

"That's an answer I knew for long, I've spent much of my own time testing it. Now will you be kind enough to let me help you?"

The teacher started throwing away blood bags.

Damon stayed silent, lost in a world where fairies called him granddad and where he lived in a giant mushroom that had grown in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty. When one of his eight daughters gave him a hug, he snapped out of it and felt really, really stupid.

He hoped he hadn't had this kind of dreams each time he had gotten drunk in his life, since he knew that once in a while he did this with vampires several times his age who could easily take a look inside his dreams. Some of them did it, for sure. Olia certainly did it. Damon could picture Pete doing it too.

If those two had seen him dreaming of rainbows and elves, he was doomed.

They had never said anything about it, though.

But still. Damon enjoyed to show off, he was always eager to grin and wink and laugh at others, but he hated being the fool. He had to be the one doing the bullying.

"Damon, still with me?"

Alaric's eyes and the vampire's met. His brain cooled off.

Right, Ric was here.

Everything would be okay.

Damon flickered, so tired he could have gone to sleep on the floor. His knees buckled, he lost track of time, and, for an eternity that lasted a single second he was serene.

The teacher caught him as he fell, wondering how many drinks exactly were needed to get such a drunken Damon. Dead-Weight-Damon. But, again, a vampire was technically dead, so, no news.

The guardian / teacher talk would have to wait. Anyway, it was very unlikely that there would have been a guardian / teacher talk. Some bourbon party would have been more plausible.

Alaric sighed.

Damon was a grown-up, he had been one for much longer than him, and yet the hunter had to babysit him. Actually, the vampire hunter was going to babysit a vampire. So much for irony.

Seriously, the two of them should stop drinking.

Ric took a deep breath, and went to the staircase. Putting Damon to bed was the best thing to do, but doing it wasn't so easy. As a plain human being, the hunter had average strength, and pulling Dead-Weight-Damon up the stairs turned out to be as much of a pain as he'd thought it would be.

He succeeded somehow.

He put Damon to bed. The older Salvatore really didn't have silk sheets.

Alaric was about to leave when he saw the vampire's peaceful face. Sleeping. Dreaming.

Were his dreams made of bloody shades? Or were they as any man's dream? Did he dream of happy endings? Or did he only have nightmares? Was the vampire only into his own satisfaction? Or was he just unable to voice his concerns, even to himself?

Ric already knew that Damon wasn't such a full-fledged villain. What he wasn't sure of, was whether or not his soon-to-be-friend – because he had to acknowledge it at least, he was growing fond of Damon – was capable of remorse.

Damon quivered and frowned. Something unpleasant in his dream, perhaps.

His eyelids were heavy as hell, his body cold as a corpse, which was not normal at all with all the blood he had drunk earlier, but his mind was clear again, and coming back to reality.

He found nothing sarcastic to say.

Right. Clearer than before, at least.

"Stay here."

No please, no thanks. Not an order, not a request. Nothing more than the expression of a wish.

Alaric sat down on the bed, not very far away.

Damon's muffled voice was heard once again, coming from beneath the sheets, uncertain about wanting to be heard or not. Damon's voice was not used to sound sweet from decades of ripped throats and mean comments. Damon was not used to be truthful and honest. But Alaric could hear a genuine feeling when the vampire talked again, almost to himself, but nonetheless aware that the teacher could hear him.

"Katherine is everywhere. I look, I see her. I watch, I see her. I glance, I see her. Why can't she just leave me alone?"

Exhaustion.

Days of solitude, weeks of constraint, months of ersatz, years of hope, decades of forbearance.

And then nothing.

"And now I see Elena, so much better than Katherine, less dangerous, too, but so kind, so attentive, and in love with my brother. Once again."

Ric said nothing. Nothing could be said.

"I never intended to hurt him. I was simply in love. I don't want to play that game again."

"You don't have to."

The teacher almost saw a smile through the dark sheets. An old, tired smile.

"Go find someone else, with no resemblance to Katherine or Elena, and try to love them. No compulsion, no cheating, no shortcut. It won't be easy, there will be times of doubts, there will be days when you'll feel like nothing makes senses. But in the end, you'll find a perfect match. You've got time, haven't you?"

Alaric could see that Damon was a little less tense. He himself should be feeling unwell, but no, he didn't. He knew he should feel bad for giving advice on the grounds of his own – overall terrifyingly problematic – love life. But things were going well with Jenna, Isobel was out of the picture for now – and, he hoped, forever – he had finally gotten over his wife, and Damon needed comfort with Katherine's return to Mystic Falls.

Ric felt the urge to pat Damon's head, just for the fun. The conversation was becoming way too serious and he was pretty sure the vampire was in no condition to retaliate.

A soft laugh came from under the sheets.

"You're sure you aren't a centuries old vampire? Because I could swear you are inducing sweet dreams in my mind right now, instead of the habitual hangover nightmares."

Alaric chuckled, uneasy. What could he say to that?

"I am kind of a calming presence."

Silence.

Alaric waited some more time, no more words. The teacher slowly rose, prepared to leave.

A voice prevented him from doing so. A sweet, weak, shy voice.

"Stay here, please."

A request.

Ric stayed some more time, silent, sitting on the bed, next to the form of Damon under the sheets.