Disclaimer: Nothing is owned, only borrowed.
Summary: Set after 3x07. The ghosts from the other side have returned to Mystic Falls and desperate to find a means of killing Klaus to free Stefan from his compulsion, Damon is eager to follow deceased werewolf Mason into the Lockwood Cellar. However, when trouble inevitably finds him, Damon is left with no choice but to ask for help from the people he can only hope still care about him.
Hurt!Damon. Delena if you squint. Damon and Alaric friendship.
Warnings: Moderately graphic description of injury.
Chapter 10
Alaric held a finger to his lips as he opened the door wider, ushering Caroline into the loft. The blonde was carrying a plain white plastic bag, though through it the teacher could still see the maroon tint of the blood bags contained within.
"Just put it over there." Alaric whispered, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at Damon, anticipating the sight of a wide eyed vampire, just awakened. Although, save the steady rise and fall of his chest hidden beneath the plush downy cover cast over him, Damon was unmoving.
Caroline tread lightly, controlling her footfalls as she stepped into the living space.
"Is this all his blood?" Caroline's eyebrows flew upward, and she turned quickly to the teacher who stood behind her.
"Quiet, he's sleeping," Alaric reminded before nodding soberly.
The blonde grimaced and caught herself looking to where Damon lay. It seemed strange to her to see the vampire like this before her, so utterly vulnerable. Since the Salvatores had come to Mystic Falls, she had only grown accustomed to the Damon that was abrasive, prone to bouts of violence, quick to anger, quicker still to retaliate, and unrelentingly sarcastic. To see him now in such a way thus worried her in a way she could not describe, almost as if she had come to care for him.
"Do you need help cleaning up?" Caroline mouthed, turning her gaze back to the teacher's.
Alaric only shook his head. "I have to stay with him anyway, might as well have something to keep me occupied. I don't think he'll be waking any time soon."
The teen nodded, though her expression of worry persisted.
"Do you need anything?"
"No, just the blood is all. Thanks." Alaric whispered.
The teacher began moving toward the kitchen to gather a bucket and ammonia from where they were stored beneath the sink.
"I'm going to go then. If you need anything, more blood, some food, just give me a call. I'll be around."
Alaric nodded his thanks and watched Caroline leave before setting to work cleaning the space he was determined to make livable again.
The smell of the cleaner was strong, potent, stinging his sinuses as he scrubbed, though Alaric's other senses stayed keen, anticipating a shuffle that told of Damon's stirring, perhaps even an indication of an unwanted guest. He unconsciously glanced at the crossbow positioned at the door, defense should any unwanted visitors turn up at the loft. Alaric huffed. There was a time in his life when he would have laughed at anyone who would even consider such a notion, but things were different now. In a town full of vampires, werewolves, and originals, one of whom was tearing through the town creating hybrids, truly there could be no norms.
Alaric's fingers ached with the motion of the scrubbing brush in his hand, scraping against the floor to lift away the blood that had long since oxygenated and dried to crust over the wood. In a brief respite, the teacher looked up at Damon who seemed to have shifted slightly, rolling only just to favor his left side. In a word, Alaric might have put it that his life had taken a turn for the unconventional, though still he could imagine it no other way.
A/N: There you guys have it, another chapter. Surprisingly, I had some difficulty deciding what I was going to do with this one. I hope you liked it, however. I would love to hear what you think. Please leave a review if you feel so inclined,and as always, thanks for reading!