Damon has never been enough, not even once in his whole fucking life. He wasn't enough for his mother or father, for Katherine, for Stefan, and certainly not for Elena. He didn't want to think of the long list of people he's let down, that he's hurt, that he's been hurt by. He gave his all, and it just was never enough. He wasn't smart enough, strong enough, fast enough, mean enough, kind enough, or brave enough when it mattered. It seemed like he only existed to use and be used. He was just so tired of all this shit, problems that weren't even his own. The endless cycle of heartbreak that was his life was beginning to wear him down in ways he had never expected. At this point he can't even find it in himself to be truly remorseful or guilty about force feeding his blood to Elena; though, looking back, it was clearly not the smartest choice.
He just wants to drink in peace and quiet, but that isn't currently an option in his own home. It also didn't seem to be in the cards for at The Grille as Alaric takes the seat next to him at the bar. He can't bring himself to even look at his friend as he orders the same drink. He expects a lecture or at least a punch, but Alaric seems content to just sit there, watching him and waiting for him to speak.
"I screwed up," he mutters eventually, giving into the awkward silence as he receives his drink. Damon looks into it as if it could contain the answers to this whole situation, as if it could be useful in any other way. But alas, his whiskey doesn't hold any answers or secrets, just more problems.
"Yeah. Yeah, you did," Alaric admits, no nonsense but also not judging. And it feels like there's a stone in his stomach weighing him down when he realizes that he's let his best friend down yet again with his reckless actions. He doesn't understand how or why he ended up with someone who cared about him, but all he knows is that one day, he will be the destruction of this human. He destroyed everyone who dared to care for him; his friends in the Confederacy, his family, his lovers, and Enzo. Just thinking of the man that he left behind to die all those years ago makes him feel the phantom pains of torture.
"Gentleman, why so glum?" The smooth accented voice pulls him out of his well of self-loathing but not in a good way. He sighs and wonders what God hated him so much as to put him in this kind of situation. He looks over to the chair that had previously been vacant next to him, finding the source of the taunt. Sitting next to him, drinking what was once his whiskey, is a man with dark blond hair and even darker blueish-greenish eyes. And something about him fills Damon with such an overwhelming fear, despite how unassuming he appears. He holds himself with a level of confidence and arrogance that no normal being could ever back up, and it would be attractive if Damon didn't know that this man could kill him before he could even blink. The Original meets his gaze with a smirk as if he could hear Damon's thoughts, and was that even very much of a stretch? They had no idea what other kinds of powers the other man wielded. And despite how his brain is currently having issues digesting this whole situation, there's something familiar about the Original that he can't quite put his finger on. Damon looks down at the bar, grounding himself as he focuses on the grain of the wood beneath his arms. He glances at Alaric, but it ends up being a mistake. Just looking at how tense and pale his friend appears makes his head spin again.
"Klaus I presume?" he asks when it becomes clear that no one else was about to say anything, looking for confirmation more than anything.
"In the flesh," the man, Klaus, teases, "And thanks for the loner, mate." He seems to take some level of amusement in the fact that they clearly know who he is and what he can do. If his plans of drinking in peace were merely interrupted before, they are now completely thrown out the window and into a wood-chipper for how likely they were to happen. The urge to bury his face in his hands is almost overwhelming. Of all the people that could have appeared to make his life more difficult, it just had to be the big bad hybrid himself. Without thinking, he reaches over and steals back his glass of whiskey, downing it as if it were a shot. The whiskey tastes like home, and the burn in his throat as it goes down makes him relax into his bar seat. Realizing what he just did, who he might have just offended, he looks over only to find the hybrid looking back at him with something similar to fascination. He quickly indicates to the bartender to bring over two more glasses of whiskey before Klaus can mourn the loss of his stolen drink.
"Any reason you stopped by to say hi?" he grounds out after the next round of drinks have been placed in front of them. Instead of responding instantly, the hybrid seems content to sip his whiskey, eyes flashing in the low light as if he was analyzing Damon. While waiting for the Original to answer, he wonders how the three of them look to the rest of the bar. Can they see the beads of sweat trickling down Alaric's neck? Can they see the way Damon's hands twitch as he fights his instincts? Or do they just see three pals catching up at the bar?
"I'm told that you and your brother fancy my doppelganger," he begins, something like disgust coloring his tone before he continues in a way that is definitely threatening, "Just thought I'd remind you not to do anything you'd regret." And boy is he regretting force feeding Elena his blood at this moment. He can tell that Klaus picks up on his slight cringing if the suspicious look he receives is any indication.
"Thanks for the advice," he acknowledges sarcastically before getting into dangerous territory, "I don't suppose I could talk you into a postponement by any chance?" His offer is shot down immediately if the way Klaus's expression goes from amused to blank is any indication.
"You're kidding?" Klaus asks him, but when Damon just smiles sheepishly, he looks to Alaric.
"He's kidding right?" he asks, as if he knows that Alaric is 75% of his self control. But maybe that is pretty obvious to anyone.
"No, not really," Alaric answers solemnly, sincerely. And Damon is ready to throwing himself between them should the Original try and attack the human.
"I mean, come on, what's one month in the whole grand scheme of things?" he tries, but it again falls flat. The serious look on the other's face makes him regret ever opening his mouth.
"Let me be clear. I have my vampire. I have my werewolf. I have everything I need. The ritual will happen tonight. So if you want to live to see tomorrow, don't screw it up," Klaus ends with a sneer. He downs what little of his whiskey is left and just vanishes. As in, he moves so fast that Damon can't even track him with his eyes. It's more concerning than it has any right to be. And of course he immediately launches into a plan to try and halt the ritual, bringing Alaric down with him. What else are best friends for?
The next time he sees Klaus is when he busts into his hideout in Alaric's apartment, prepared to beg for the Original to halt the ritual. He's freed Caroline and Tyler, gaining a werewolf bite in the process, and he doesn't know what else he can do to get the other to stop. He's running out of options and time. But to his surprise, the hybrid isn't angry; if anything, he just looks disappointed in him, as if Damon should've known that he has backup plans in place. He's even more on edge when the other man sends Katherine away.
"I can smell it on you, the infection of a werewolf bite. Show it to me." Klaus's face is blank yet again, and Damon freezes as his weakness is revealed. The other must've smelled it the moment he entered the room. And despite the fact that he's on vervain, Damon listens. It's not like he was giving anything away, the Original already knew about it. If anything, maybe he could use this to his advantage, buy some time. And when he rolls up his sleeve, it's a lot worse than when he last checked on it. The necrosis is spreading, and just looking at it makes him unsteady. In his mind's eye he can see Rose, can see how she rotted away from a werewolf bite. And he knows his death is approaching in a way he never thought it would, slow and insidious. If there is one thing that he knows, there is no cure for a werewolf bite. He's a walking dead man, and he is going to die alone. Klaus carefully takes his arm, observing the injury close up. Damon didn't realize how cold he is until he feels the scorching touch of the hybrid, and it makes him shiver as if he were a human.
"What does it feel like?" There's no cruelness in the other's tone, just curiosity. He traces the wound, taking note when Damon flinches and bites his tongue to hold back a groan of pain.
"It feels like getting shot and bleeding to death," he answers honestly, his voice coming out a bit hoarse. The hybrid hums before carefully pulling his sleeve down to cover the bite back up. He looks at Damon with something akin to pity, and he doesn't know what's going on, what this means. The Original grabs his face and all he can do is stand there, rigid as a board. The last thing he feels before his neck is snapped is a single kiss on his forehead.
He's a lot worse by the time he makes it to the site of the ritual. He's so thirsty and every step is a challenge, it's a miracle he even made it. And he watches as Elijah hold back Stefan so he doesn't do anything stupid, namely try to stop Damon from trying to trade places with Jenna. If he hadn't rescued Caroline and Tyler, Elena's aunt, his friend and Alaric's girlfriend, wouldn't be about to die.
"Kill me instead. Let me take her place as the vampire sacrifice," he offers. He knows it isn't convincing, but all he can do at this point is hope. Elena is staring at him from her circle, so horrified and hopeful. He doesn't know why it feels as if he's looking at a stranger instead of the girl he supposedly loved. There was no love or affection, just annoyance that this was his fate because of everyone's willingness to kill themselves to protect this one human girl.
"Oh Damon, you're already halfway dead. You can't expect me to risk failure by using you," Klaus taunts, but there's something dark to his expression. It's as if he's mad at him, though he really has no idea why. There's many reasons to be mad at him, but unfortunately he isn't sure which it is in this case.
"Dying or not, I'm still a vampire, I still meet the requirements," he insists.
"Then let me put it to you this way; no." There's something final about his words, and any hope he had was now crashing and burning before his very eyes.
"Why not? I'm already dying, I'm volunteering, I meet the requirements." His frustration is evident, and he can see something in Klaus flare up. The Original grabs his neck before he knows what's happening, pulling him in until there's no space left.
"Because you, blackbird, are too interesting to kill just yet," Klaus all but purrs into his ear, quiet enough at this distance that not even Elijah could've heard his words. He registers a pressure on his forehead that lasts a millisecond before his neck is snapped yet again.
Damon is very confused when he wakes up. He knows he's in his room, but he doesn't know how he got there. He's freezing, his senses are almost nonexistent, and he's too weak to do little more than open his eyes. Everything hurts, he can almost feel every cell in his body being destroyed. He doesn't know what year it is or what happened before he woke up. All he can recall is dreams, nightmares, and memories.
"Damon?" someone all but shouts from next to him. The loud voice instantly triggers a headache that has him hissing in pain. He manages to move his head enough to look to the side, finding Katherine there. He doesn't remember her ever wearing that outfit or hairstyle, and it doesn't suit her nearly as well. His vision blurs when she moves closer. When she tries to grab his hand, he growls in warning. She's smart enough to let go.
"Where's Stefan?" he croaks, his throat not capable of rising above a loud whisper. A straw is pressed to his lips and he sucks up the proffered blood greedily, though it leaves him nauseous and thirstier than before.
"He's out trying to find a cure for the werewolf bite. Don't worry, I'm here, Damon," she tries to soothe, risking another attempt at touching him. His response this time is to bare his teeth, a final warning. The blood must've given him some of his strength back, as he is now able to hold his eyes open and see better. He looks at the girl again, realization setting in that this is Elena. After all, Katherine would have never put in the effort to care for him. Elena looks angry and hurt at his refusal, not that she has any right to feel that way.
"I need my brother," he grounds out. He's dying, and the most important person in his life isn't here. He has so much he needs to say to his little brother, so many sins to confess and apologies to make. And Elena is here, wasting his time as if she has any claim to his last moments. Who knows, maybe in her head, she had a right to be here as the girl he was supposedly infatuated with.
"Why didn't you tell us that you had been bitten?" she interrogates, ignoring his previous request. He's in pain and frustrated, and it's a fight to sort through what is real and what isn't. Rose is standing next to his bedside, dressed in the outfit that he only got to see in her dreamscape. She holds out her hand, beckoning him to follow her. Enzo is in a cage in the corner, burning to death and screaming silently. Lexi snarls at him from the foot of his bed, a hole in her chest of his own making. She never really liked him anyway, but he can't say that she deserved her fate.
"Elena, why don't you give me some time with my best friend," Alaric, his savior from this torture, all but orders as he appears in the doorway. With a huff and a glare, she complies, climbing off his bed and leaving the room without a backward glance. His relief must be evident as his friend chuckles in response, taking the place that Elena just vacated. Up close, he can see his friend is not doing well. His eyes are glassy, his skin is pale, his hair is greasy, and the area around his eyes is pink and puffy, as if he had been crying. And everything is clearer now, the ritual, Klaus breaking his neck.
"What happened? Did we stop him?" It's all he can get out before a coughing fit takes him by surprise. Alaric gives him whiskey to sip on for his dry throat. And his friend spends the next half an hour explaining how everything went down, from how his brother also got his neck snapped after he rushed at Klaus to Jenna's death to Elena's temporary death and resurrection by John, and Elijah's betrayal. And then there was the fact that Damon had been out for 2 days, the werewolf venom severely slowing his healing.
"I'm sorry about Jenna, man. She was a good person, and I know you loved her," he gave his condolences, not knowing how else to show that he was there for the other, that he was sorry for not being enough.
"It's okay," the human sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the headboard. Damon didn't know how long the other had been drinking, but he could tell Alaric was starting to lose it. His friend needed sleep, but he wasn't safe here. Even being this weak, it would be so easy for him to drink his friend dry and not even know he was doing it. He can feel the strength from the blood he drank earlier waning, can hear Alaric's blood pumping just a little louder.
"No, no it's really not," he gently chides his friend, resulting in the other taking a drink of whiskey straight from the bottle. But if these were his last moments with his friends, he wanted to be honest, wanted to show that he cared even if he wasn't the type to come right out and say it.
"What else am I supposed to say? I don't know what to do without her, what I'm supposed to do with Elena and Jeremy," Alaric vented, wiping at his eyes. Damon knows that if his senses were at their best, he'd smell the salt of the other's tears. And he's worried for his friend. The guardians of the Gilbert siblings always seemed to meet a horrific end, and he didn't wish that on the history teacher. If he was brave enough, he'd tell his friend to get as far away from here as he can. But he's a coward, so he says nothing.
"They're basically already grown, all you have to do is make sure they stay in school and don't catch their house on fire," he jested, getting a chuckle out of Alaric.
"Have you met these kids?" he joked back, and everything between them felt right. But even with his hallucinations coming and going, he could tell that there was something missing from the story that he'd been given. Not a lie but an omission, which was much more dangerous.
"You're not telling me something," he accused calmly, knowing that the other had been merely putting this off.
"When Bonnie was talking to Emily, she learned that there is a cure for a werewolf bite. However, only Klaus knows it," Alaric explains, and any hope that had been building was instantly crushed.
"Please tell me that my lovable, loyal, moronic brother isn't trying to ask for the help of the Original that we just attempted to kill?" he groaned pleadingly.
"Don't worry, your brother is still mostly alive, I made sure the stake didn't hit his heart. Though, there may be some nasty splinters to deal with later," an accented voice spoke from the doorway, cutting off whatever Alaric had been about to say. While he turns his head to look at the newcomer, Alaric merely takes another swig of whiskey. He knows that if his friend wasn't drunk, he'd be doing something stupid like trying to attack the man that had killed the woman he loved.
"I mean, I'm sure he had it coming," Damon weakly agreed, intimidated by the dark look the Original was giving them, "Alaric, why don't you go help Stefan? You'd know I love to, but I'm a bit disposed at the moment." Both of them know what's trying to do, keep the human safe, but neither of them call him out on it.
"Slacker," Alaric accuses, beginning to get off the bed, "And you're not allowed to die until I get back." And it fills him with something warm, something similar to happiness, at knowing that he won't die alone. He definitely doesn't deserve the vampire hunter, but he's so grateful that he has the other anyway.
"Yes, sir," he teases. He goes to salute the other as well, but all he manages is a weak wave. Concern blooms on Alaric's face, but he still departs, giving the hybrid a wide berth as he leaves the room. Damon had been careful not to look at Klaus throughout all this, but with him now being the only other being in the room, he's forced to acknowledge the other. He's surprised to find that Klaus has already taken a seat next to him, taking the place that his friend had just vacated. Klaus looks amused at his jolt, but he doesn't comment. The dark look from earlier is still present, but he doesn't know what it means. The Original couldn't still be mad at him, right? His ritual worked in the end; no harm, no foul.
"What are you doing here?" he all but groans, wishing he could sit up, that he wasn't so vulnerable in front of the other.
"I'm here to save you, darling," the other all but coos, as if Damon were a harmless pet. And he doesn't really know what to do with that information, doesn't know how to stop his hopes from rising. And Klaus gives him time to think over his statement and what it meant.
"What did Stefan promise you?" he finally asks, dreading the answer. His brother would give up almost anything, save Elena, to keep him alive.
"Don't worry about your brother, I didn't accept his deal, tempting as it may have been. Instead, I'm here to make one with you," Klaus answers smugly, clearly knowing that he had already done Damon a favor by not accepting Stefan's offer.
"What do you want?"
"I want you, Damon, to be my new partner in crime. In exchange for your loyalty, I'll save you," he explains, tone nonchalant as if he wasn't asking the vampire to give his freedom away for the rest of his lengthy life.
"No deal," he answers without hesitation, taking pleasure in the shock on the other's face that quickly gives way to anger.
"Excuse me?"
"No deal. My life is here," he clarifies, though he can tell the hybrid doesn't understand his reasoning.
"You don't seem to be understanding the situation. You will not survive the night. Your life here is soon to be over, only in a much more permanent way," Klaus elaborates, as if he doesn't get what's going on, as if he doesn't know what it means to die.
"If this is how I go, I think I'll be okay with that. This is where I was born and where I died, it seems fitting almost," he jokes bitterly, both loving and hating his hometown.
"One last chance, accept the deal, Damon," Klaus pressures, something like compulsion behind his demand. But Damon is still on vervain, though it will be out of his system shortly.
"No."
"Stubborn blackbird," Klaus murmurs affectionately, yet exasperatedly, before his vampire face appears, and he sinks his teeth into his own wrist. The still bleeding wrist is forced against his mouth, quieting his protests as the Original's blood flows down his throat. He doesn't know what's going on, why Klaus is blood sharing with him, something sacred and intimate among vampires. It tastes like nothing he's ever drank before, not sweet like human blood, not tasteless like vampire blood, and not disgusting like werewolf blood. It's something completely different, and he can feel everything coming rushing at him at once, just like when he had first awoken as a newly turned vampire.
"What did you just do?" he hisses desperately, when Klaus finally pulls his arm away. He can feel his limbs twitching as the hybrid's blood makes it's way through his body. It hurts even worse than the initial werewolf bite.
"I just saved your life, of course. As it happens, my blood is the cure to a werewolf bite." Damon looks up at the other, only to find the hybrid staring at him with rapt attention, watching as his blood runs it's course clearing out the werewolf venom. His vampire face is still present, and he looks ready to tear into him at any moment.
"I didn't accept your deal," he stresses, trying to move ever so slightly away from the other to no avail. His body is too busy spasming to function as he needs it to.
"I'm aware," the other answers dryly, seemingly content to lean back and just watch him.
"Why did you save me?"
"I'm not quite ready for you to die yet," the other answered vaguely, only serving to make Damon more frustrated. He had refused the deal so he wouldn't owe the hybrid anything, but here they were anyway.
"What is wrong with you? You kiss my forehead before you snap my neck, you call me pet names, and now you save me for no reason," it came out as whine rather than demanding to his embarrassment.
"So tell me, Damon, about your drinking buddy who was just in here. Alaric, I believe?" The attempt to change the conversation, especially to his friend, gave him mental whiplash, everything in his head grinding to a stop in disbelief.
"What's there to tell? Don't try and change the conversation-"
"How did you of all beings manage to snag a vampire hunter?" It was said casually, even though there was something like venom behind the words. And he didn't exactly know where this was going, what the original was implying.
"I'm just lucky-" He was getting very tired of being interrupted.
"You will tell me the full truth when we're talking, do you understand? Now, let's try this again, tell me about you and your hunter." And as much as he wanted to deny Klaus his answers, the other's blood must've washed out what little vervain was left in his system as he felt the compulsion fall over his mind like an uncomfortably heavy blanket.
"We met when he was here investigating the supposed death of his wife. I actually turned her though, but that's another story. So he tried to kill me a few times, water under the bridge. And after working together for long enough trying to keep these stupid kids from dying, we became best friends, almost brothers. The end."
"So the teacher really is just your friend?" Klaus confirmed, the dangerous glint in his eyes fading, relaxing fully into the pillows.
"Well, yeah. Why the hell does it matter?" he asked, just to be ignored completely.
"If you insist on staying in this town, so be it. But I guess I'll be staying as well. I'll have to travel every now and then, of course, but until you are ready to leave this place, I'll just keep returning," it was both a promise and a threat, and Damon didn't know how he got stuck in this mess. They had thought that once the hybrid had performed his ritual, he'd finally leave and they'd be safe once more. That whole plan had just gotten thrown out the window.
"Why? Why won't you just leave?" he sighed, exhausted, not really expecting an answer.
"Because you won't come with me, dear blackbird," Klaus teased, though he could tell the other was actually serious, "And after all, this place is where we became originals, long before Mystic Falls was settled." He wondered why the hybrid was telling him this, why he seemed intent on Damon being his companion (pet?).
"It really is cursed here," he muttered with something like understanding, before carrying on with determination, "And I'll never come with you."
"You will, one day, I assure you. And I can wait for however long that takes, that I can promise you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a wolf pack to hunt down. See you soon, Damon." With that, the other was just gone, but not before leaving a searing kiss upon the younger vampire's lips. And like that, everything about how the other had been treating him fell into place. The picture Klaus was painting him was crystal clear; he wasn't meant to just be a companion, he was meant to be a lover, a mate. And as much as he hated the actions that Klaus had taken to achieve his goal, he couldn't actually hate the actual man. After all, Damon himself had done some awful things in quest of Katherine, of Elena.
"Fuck me."