And because I can't have Stupid and Fool open their heart soon enough, here come some more disturbances.

Actually, I'm kidding. My original characters are no filler.


Adjusting to our reality, part 18: Things I haven't told her

Alaric was on his way to leave the school when he spotted Damon, standing next to the teacher's car. Ric didn't take one second to think about it and turned around.

Everything was falling apart.

Jenna had said she was okay, but she wasn't a really good liar. He knew she was having doubts about their relationship, or, more accurately, about him being him and not someone else. And she wasn't exactly wrong. He wasn't telling her the whole truth. Of course, he couldn't tell her that her niece was being targeted by one of the first vampires ever to be used as a sacrifice. Neither could he tell her that he had no idea about what he was going to wear the next day. None of his shirts were clean, all actually waiting to be cleaned or stained with blood.

As if he didn't have enough to deal with just being who he was.

So, he wasn't going to talk with Damon.

Not now.

It wasn't that he didn't want to forgive the vampire for what he had said. Ric wanted to.

But he couldn't. Each time the hunter had tried to talk to Damon after the latest confrontation, he had walked away before successfully saying a word. It didn't make him happy, yet he couldn't.

He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't forgive his best friend. It surely had something to do with him thinking that the vampire should have understood. How exactly, he couldn't say. But Alaric had this feeling that no one else in town could understand, if Damon couldn't.

He could as well go home.

Boston. Home. It wasn't funny at all. Boston was not supposed to feel like home anymore.

Alaric squinted. Maybe he'd better come to work with a blood-stained shirt tomorrow, if only he could trade what he had just seen with an illusion or a trick of his mind that had come to him because he had been thinking of Boston in return.

Nope. No illusion. Shit. Gal had found him.

Or maybe he should be glad. He kind of needed a friend, right now, who wasn't called Damon Salvatore, and, if possible, wasn't involved in any of his normal and supernatural drama.

Gal was a young woman, a little younger than he was, with a first name that was even stranger than his, an old, very old, really old sounding given name. He had always called her Gal, as she had asked him to years before. She had shoulder length blond hair, beautiful chestnut eyes with impressive lashes, and she always had this kind, considerate, almost sad smile on her face.

And right now, she was parking her car while staring at him intensely.

How the hell she had found out about his whereabouts was an interesting question, but well. They hadn't seen each other in something like five years now, and she hadn't changed a bit. How she had managed to get some free time from New York was also an interesting question, but once again, none of his concern. The fact that she was wearing those amazing clothes, as always, was of his concern: now that she had rejoined him, his students were staring at them with awe in their eyes.

Alaric tried to say something, but couldn't. He really had to deal with the slap that reddened his left cheek first.

"That was for disappearing without a word. Now, we can talk."

Gal, nice and thoughtful? The teacher must have been out of his mind when he had thought she was.

And of course, the ruckus had called for Damon's attention, who hadn't noticed him until now.

"Ric, who is this fine lady?"

The vampire's chuckling wasn't what he needed to hear right now.

"The fine lady is Gal. I've known her since I was a child, so please, be polite, Damon."

"You know me, always the gentleman."

Alaric sneered at that, but didn't say anyhting.

Whatever. Miss and Mister were already staring at each other, almost checking each other out. Better off not interrupting them. The hunter thought he might as well sneak off while they were busy being rude. But by the time he made his mind, it was too late.

Damon grabbed the hunter's arm as he was taking a step away.

"Don't you dare to run away, Alaric. We have things to discuss. By the way, nice earrings you have here."

Alaric watched them without being able to understand what was going on. Gal had always had those earrings, as far as he could remember, tiny, blue, round earrings. In fact, they were kind of plain compared to her outfit. A sleeveless vertically striped black and gray suit this day, with a pork pie black hat. Priceless, from what he could deduce from the cutting.

Which fashion designer was it this time?

It didn't actually matter, but being a fashion photographer was obviously a well-paid job.

Alaric started wondering how he had ended up knowing only weirdos.

Meanwhile, Gal smirked. The man wanted to go there? She could do as much.

"Not as interesting as your ring. Is it a hundred years old or what?"

"Around one hundred and seventy. Who are you again?"

Ric tried once more to sneak off. It didn't work this time either. Truth to be told, he felt like Damon was being more and more clingy as the conversation between the two designer clothing wearers was becoming heated. Which was strange, and even becoming a bit awkward.

"My name is Galswinthe. Now, if you could let go of Ric, I'd like to spend some time with him. You know, catching up and all, between lifetime friends..."

"Well, you'll have to put up with me. I too have things I need to talk about with Ric. You know, important stuff and all, between best friends."

Were they arguing over him? Really?

"Now that's enough."

And without further ado, Alaric shook his arm to get the vampire to let go of him, and walked away.

Damon and Gal were speechless for over twenty seconds, then they looked angrily at each other and went their separate ways.

The vampire considered going home, but he needed a drink, and a lot of noise, so that he wouldn't be able to distinguish his own thoughts from the hubbub. The Grill was a better option.

There were so many things he needed to talk about with Alaric.

About the Klaus issue. About the Falkenbachs. About how he was sorry for what he had said.

About his feelings for the man.

No.

That, he wouldn't talk about.

Ever.

Still, he couldn't stop worrying about this woman, Gal – Alaric's friend, the two of them had said. She was suspect. And not only because of the earrings. Blue earrings were surely pretty common. But she seemed to be so close with the hunter...

Damon grumbled, casting a last look at the dubious woman with the fancy outfit.

Classy, to tell the truth. Fucking rich people.

Oh, wait.

He was in no position to criticize.

Gal waited a bit before heading for Ric's loft.

She was worried. The kid had really seemed drained, as if he had no life left in him. And that man... all over Alaric. Owning a blue ring that could as well be made of lapis lazuli. As if a Saltzman didn't have enough trouble on their own, without a possible vampire hanging around.

She had kept an eye on Ric for almost thirty years now. It hadn't always been simple. Watching over the whole Saltzman family wasn't what she would have called a safe task. But it was her family duty. And she was happy to do it. Moreover, she really cared for the kid. He wasn't like those freaks from the main house.

Keeping an eye on Theodoric wasn't something she enjoyed. Alaric, or Cassandre, on the other hand, were good kids, even if unlucky to have been born in this family. Yet, in a way, it reassured Gal, because it meant the Saltzmans weren't mere human scum. As the Falkenbachs hadn't been only murderous assholes.

Really, it meant a lot to her.

And she was definitely worried about this guy, who seemed to be the teacher's friend.

Maybe she had been right to have Cassandre followed when she had heard the girl would ask Ric.

Gal reached for her wedding ring, hanging loosely around her neck thanks to a strap, and took a breath. Then she knocked at the door.

Alaric opened the door, expecting Damon, and looked relieved to see it was only Gal.

"Come in."

He went to the kitchen part of the appartment, poured them some coffee.

"You seem tired, Ric."

"It's because I am. Things aren't exactly peaceful around Mystic Falls, and I'm having trouble with the girl I love. You know, because of things I haven't told her."

Gal watched him as he sat on the sofa.

The man was really astonishing. Blue eyes, almost blond hair, and a face... Strangely, she was a bit proud of him being such a handsome man. He looked a little like her husband had. As for men's secrets, she'd have liked to know the truth about Hans before it had been too late. She couldn't blame the hunter's girlfriend for being pushy about it.

Well, maybe there wouldn't have been a later between her and Hans if she had known beforehand.

There were some truths no one would ever accept. Some people chose not to acknowledge what wasn't to their liking. Others decided to shut people who were unlike them out of their life. And there were the ones who condamned any differences with death penalty.

Life wasn't always easy.

For Alaric, out of all people, it would never be a serene path.

"By the way, I went back to training."

The teacher saw Gal stiffen.

He had known she would react this way.

Gal was one of the rare persons who had still been there for him after the whole story at the bank. She had always been here, and she had been the one to tell him that maybe he should try to make his body less of a weapon by staying out of shape.

"Why would you do that?"

Alaric took a sip of coffee, thinking.

They hadn't seen each other for quite a long time. Maybe she didn't know about Isobel's disappearance. If she did, she'd surely have worked it out by now.

"My wife went missing. She's probably dead. I saw her with a man in our bedroom just before she disappeared. And there was blood on the sheets."

Isobel was't missing. She had faked her death. She wasn't probably dead – she was, and yet she wasn't. She was a vampire. The man wasn't a man. He was a vampire. He was his best friend. He was the guy from before. He had turned Isobel. And slept with her. And Ric had known for something like half a year already.

That he wasn't going to tell Gal.

How could he, even if he had wanted to?

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Is that why you came here, in the middle of nowhere?"

She seemed really concerned.

And she was. The hunter knew Gal was always genuine about everything, as long as it concerned feelings. He didn't always know why she would feel personally offended because of something that had been told to him, or why she cared so much about him. But do you inquire your friends' motivations? If you do, then you're certainly a lonely person.

Unless the friend was called Damon Salvatore, but that was a story for another time.

"I needed a change of pace."

That wasn't completely false. That wasn't completely true either.

And Gal knew it.

Alaric could see it in her eyes. He hadn't bothered lying with enough conviction about that. He didn't need to. He didn't want to. If he wasn't willing to talk freely this day, he would be one day, and Gal knew it. She only had to wait. People like Ric weren't the best with honesty.

It wasn't an issue for either of them.