Title: Gutter Rat Blues
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (Drabble)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Damon and Elena
Prompt: Back Alley
Word Count: 1,100
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters.
The alley is dark and quiet save for the steady drip, drip, dripping of blood from a mutilated young woman suspended upside down from a fire escape. Her eyes were open and glassy, horror etched in her pinpoint pupils that had once been fastened to a mysterious, dark-haired man.
He had not removed himself from the scene of the crime just yet; instead he was sitting with his back against the wall that was no doubt festering with bacteria and rat shit. The remaining dregs of blood that still remained were dropping into a growing pool of crimson between his sprawled legs, creeping toward him as though it had a purpose.
He wasn't hungry anymore.
Sitting there in the midst of vermin and fermenting garbage in a town thirty miles north of Mystic Falls Damon Salvatore wondered if it were possible for him to sink any lower. Why had he travelled all of this way for a little bed-time snack instead of picking off yet another Falls burnout? Why had he not drawn out this pathetic creature's death as was his usual style? No crows, no fog, and no flair at all…it simply was not like him.
"Rain drops keep fallin' on my head…" Twiddling his thumbs, killing time and giving the old musical number a macabre new meaning he was really evading the true question that was plaguing him now.
Why did he hesitate before ripping her apart? He never lingered on making a decision, never truly cared about the countless victims that had writhed and fought in vain against him. Most of the time he did not even remember their ill-fated faces, or their death masks as he left them in various poses for others of their species to find. All he knew, all he had ever wanted aside from Katherine was the blood and the power that came along with it.
Contempt took years to foster but the loss of his lover and the betrayal of his brother had certainly given him a head start. He was stronger, faster, and smarter than most of his human snacks and undead brethren alike so at least his superiority complex was well-founded. The only person that had truly under-estimated him had been his father but that old wretch of a man was long-dead and no longer an open sore on the world. And he didn't care one fucking bit. So why now?
This particular Salvatore brother was obstinate to change—especially when it regarded his own personal growth. After 160 years of wandering the earth how much more could one evolve? What was the point of changing yourself for someone or something when that cause or that individual would only decay and become a part of the earth once more? What was the fucking point?
Shadows flitted and settled into the vampire's eyes, staring up at the dead girl as though expecting her to provide him with all the answers he required. Instead she was silent and he could practically hear the beginnings of the decaying process setting in.
Finally realizing that he was sitting in a refuse-laden alleyway he stood up and dusted himself off, his upper lip curling in disgust as he fished around in the silk pocket of his rather expensive leather jacket. Fishing out a pack of cigarettes he popped one into his mouth and took no time in lighting it before carefully slipping out of the alley and making his way back to where his car was parked.
Back in Mystic Falls he found that he was still restless, still craving something. This time it had nothing to do with blood, more like a desire to see a familiar face and pretend for a moment that he had not just murdered someone in cold blood because he was bored and needed to blow off steam.
It seemed as though his feet and head were always subconsciously taking him back to Elena's bedroom, something he would rather not spend too much time thinking about. He had convinced himself that it was simply because he rather enjoyed annoying her and it seemed as though the only vaguely intelligent and thought-provoking conversations he had experienced thus far were with her.
He was sitting by her window, watching the night pass him by on broken legs and wondering if Saint Stefan even had a child's grasp on what he had with this girl. Knowing him he rather doubted it. Startled by the sudden flash of lights turning on he considered disappearing into the night as he had done many times before when the threat of her awakening had been imminent.
"Damon? What are you doing here?" Her voice betrayed a rather uncanny alertness for the time of night which drove him to question whether she had figured him out and had been waiting to see if he would show up again.
"Oh well, I was just in the neighborhood…keeping watch for peeping toms and other perverted souls that roam around in the night." Flashing a quick grin as she slid open her window he watched as her brow arched and nose wrinkled ever so slightly.
"So you were watching yourself being creepy outside my window then? I figured you for the vain and stalkerish but this is ridiculous," Sniffing the air she eyed him curiously, a hand coming up to slightly cover her nose.
"Damon, don't take this the wrong way but…were you dumpster diving or something? You smell…"
Oh shit. He had forgotten about the stench and cursed inwardly but as always he was able to play it off with a shrug and a smirk, words escaping from his mouth before he could think, "Actually Miss Gilbert it's called sewer spelunking and it happens to be a very worthwhile pastime."
A note of laughter escaped from her mouth, the same hand that was being used to fend off the smell now trying to choke down her merriment. Feeling strangely gratified by this in spite of the fact that he smelled like dead rats and moldy food he found himself laughing at the absurdity of his words as well.
Elena shook her head, moving her hand away from her face so that she could cross her arms over her chest, "Listen, next time you want to sit outside my window you might as well knock on it. But…I think you should go take a shower, you're going to get a loyal following of dogs if you don't."
A true invitation that he had not even tried to trick her into giving him, now that was something you didn't get every day. Damon could barely disguise his surprise and was already considering the implications of taking her up on this new and rather interesting proposal.
"G'night Elena."
He had almost completely forgotten the cause of this particular odor and even though he would not remember the girl's face he would remember the one time he had hesitated and the person he had hesitated for.