Yes, if I was considerate, I'd post the last two chapters of the first part that is Adjusting to our reality and be done with it. But I'm not considerate, and those two chapters will be for tomorrow.


I actually have no idea whether this is any good.
Like Damon, I'm sick, and I've barely slept three hours last night.
Hope it's not so bad.
I mean, the writing, not the story.

My stories are always horrible.


Adjusting to our reality, part 30: As seconds nudged one another

Alaric walked down the stairs.

He still was unsure of what to do with Damon's feelings. What he knew, on the other hand, was that his friend had said nothing, and that maybe, it would be for the best if they stayed silent about it. After all, a cure to the werewolves' poison was unheard of. The vampire was going to die.

He stopped by the basement fridge and filled a glass with blood.

From what he knew, Damon would need it.

When he arrived to the cell door, his best friend was sitting in his cell, chin falling on his torso, eyes gazing onto the ground. He obviously had heard him coming, but wasn't reacting to his presence.

Ric thought of staying outside, but chose not to.

The teacher entered the cell, which he locked back, glass of blood in hand. He looked at Damon for half a minute, and, as the vampire was still ignoring him stubbornly, he crouched down and handed him the glass.

"Now, you drink."

Damon snorted and looked away.

Hell, Ric could be as stubborn as the vampire was if he wanted to.

Moving to face Damon, Alaric placed the glass just under his friend's nose, looking him in the eyes.

"Not letting you die before time is up."

The vampire averted his gaze once more.

This was getting annoying. Damon wanted to play this game? Change of rules.

Alaric grabbed a handful of black hair, and forced the glass to the vampire's mouth. His friend gapped with surprise, and his eyes went to the blue and fierce eyes that were the hunter's. All he saw in them was concern.

Damon swallowed the blood with difficulty, some bordering his mouth with a red color. Already Ric was forcing him to take another sip, tilting the glass horizontal.

The vampire gulped, then decided it was enough.

He didn't want to see the hunter right now, he didn't want to see anyone, he wanted to die alone without killing anyone else, without killing any of the people he cared for, without killing Alaric. He wished for it to end, one or two hallucinations, and then going rabid, alone in a locked cell, and then death. He hoped he could have a deaths-clean death, if he couldn't get a clean death.

"Go away."

Alaric's grip on his hair tightened. It hurt a bit, but it was nothing. Blessed the accelerate regeneration. Hell, even blessed the werewolf bite. It was nothing compared to the pain the werewolf bite was inflicting him.

Ludicrous.

Public vampires notification: let's all be bitten by a werewolf! It'll end your worries for good.

"Not an option, Damon. You know that already, don't you?"

What the hell was that supposed to mean, exactly?

He hadn't yet swallowed all the blood he had in his mouth. He was stronger than his friend. He was the shitty vampire frantic killer of Mystic Falls, wasn't he?

If that was what it'd take to make the teacher leave, he'd do it. Maybe the hunter would even stake him, ending it now. Frankly, it would be for the best, if things turned out that way.

Damon winced when some of his hair got pulled out as he outdid Ric, but he pushed the man against the cell's far wall and vamped out.

Blood was dripping from his mouth, anger was lurking in his eyes.

"I told you to go away!"

Alaric watched his best friend threatening him with a neutral face. It wasn't that he was hiding his emotions. It was simply that he wasn't afraid. Or curious. Or anything. He knew it was all an act, even though the anger was genuine. The vampire wasn't actually trying to hurt him. He wasn't yet going rabid either, or he wouldn't have stopped. He only wanted to scare him away.

Good luck frightening a freaking Falkenbach with so little acting. Maybe, if he hadn't known vampires were real. But he knew. So it wasn't unexpected. Anyway, even the unexpected could barely scare a Saltzman. It would merely disturb him a bit.

He was interested, at best. That Damon would go to such lenghts to get rid of him meant a lot.

The teacher sighed.

"I wanted time to think about it, but hell, we don't have that anymore."

Without any other warning, Alaric freed his right arm with his human yet unusual strength, and got a hold of Damon's, roughly pulling him closer. His hand then moved to the vampire's back, his arm preventing him from moving.

Damon's lips crushed on his own, slightly parted.

Ric sneaked his tongue between their teeth, forcing the vampire to open his mouth a bit more, and he began to truly kiss him with an eagerness that kept Damon silent. Not that he would have broken the kiss to talk, anyway. It felt too wonderful to do that. He closed his eyes.

Alaric's chest felt broad and strong against his own, Alaric's hand on his back was pressing its fingers as if it was trying to tear his shirt apart, Alaric's tongue was hot and wet and freaking explorating his mouth.

Maybe it was time to respond to that enthusiasm?

Not believing this was actually happening, Damon kissed him back, all teeth and tongue, forgetting he was still wearing his vampire face.

The hunter didn't mind. It wasn't a human face, but who said he was human enough to care? Human body, certainly, but the mind... His mind was that of a demon, of a reaper. Falkenbach. Saltzman. Eitherway. He didn't deserve to be called human, even though he was one.

Eyes half-closed, looking at the dark veins on Damon's face through his lashes, he couldn't help thinking how great it felt to love someone who was at least as dangerous and deadly as he was. No need to watch out for what he couldn't say, no need to be afraid the other wouldn't understand.

No need to worry.

As for their kiss, it was getting all bloody. The little fright-and-scare game Damon had tried to pull hadn't worked, but it changed nothing to the fact the vampire hadn't drunk half of the blood he had taken into his mouth. Luckily, Alaric didn't care much about blood. It had this metallic taste, but it wasn't disgusting or anything. It was only liquid, and what, bloody. His family's legacy didn't care about blood. Try to be a killer who was bothered by blood. A bit difficult. Especially when you were using not only poisons but blades and bullets and fists too.

A droop of blood rolled down Ric's chin, leaving a dark red trail on his skin.

Damon heard their two heartbeats, throbbing almost in unison. Faster, faster, to make up for the time they wouldn't get together.

Then he felt Ric's tongue against his fangs, and remembered.

The vampire waited another second, and broke the kiss. Alaric kind of growled out of discontent.

Damon loved how he looked, so pleased with himself and with their kiss, so handsome, simply, so perfect. Perfect for him, perfect for them.

Damon frowned.

Why was Ric all bloody?

The vampire licked his own lips, and frowned again.

Here was the answer. Because he had had blood all over his mouth while they had been kissing. Damon might have felt a bit ashamed for thinking Alaric looked downright hot with blood on his face, if the hunter hadn't looked just so damn hot.

"Are you stealing my blood away from my mouth?"

"No idea what you're mumbling about."

Ric grinned a bloody grin and kissed him once more.

Both of their hearts accelerated, but it was only a chaste kiss. Yet, Alaric had taken advantage of the situation and put his hands on Damon's hips, and pulled him closer again, so close they were feeling the curves and angles of each other's body, so close their noses were filled with each other's scent.

So close their bodies tensed as their hearts softened.

The scent was becoming more and more that of sexual need as seconds nudged one another, in a hurry to witness the outcome, to see if they could possibly be extended and delay the fatal hour.

The teacher let him free, and rested the back of his head against the wall.

"I must be a bit drunk."

Damon's heart flinched to this line.

Sure. Ric was drunk. Maybe a bit saddened to know his best friend was dying, troubled by his ex-wife's and his girlfriend's deaths, and now he was acting reckless, without meaning it.

Or worse. Maybe it had begun, Damon was hallucinating. Maybe he was alone in the cell, and all that was him being pitifully unhappy for the short rest of his lifetime.

"I'm pretty sure I'm usually a better kisser than that."

Damon's heart missed a beat.

Maybe... Maybe there was hope. Maybe this was real.

"You..."

The teached cocked his head to the right.

"I what?"

Damon took a long breath. He couldn't believe he was going to ask that.

"You really meant it? This kiss, this..."

Alaric interrupted him, smirking in amusement.

"You really think I'm the kind of guy who kisses ramdom people the day after his girl's death?"

Put that way, the question was indeed a bit dull.

"And frankly, Damon, if I had let you do as you please, we'd never gotten to it. I'm aware I was kind of slow noticing how you look at me, but once I did, there was no going back. I truly loved Jenna, I'll always love her, but she is dead, and there is no going back from that. You, on the other hand, are still alive. You obviously love me. And from how I reacted to this kiss that I initiated, since you're so surprisingly useless at confessing for a guy who flirts with everyone from breakfast to dinner, I'm pretty certain you can tell I love you back."

Ignoring the comment about confessing, because there was no need to go and tell Ric about the failed attempt from the other day, Damon's heart jolted in his chest at those words... and he coughed up blood that stained a bit more the hunter's chin and shirt.

"Alive... not for long. You should try to... search for a person who's not actually... dying, when you'll be single again. Which is likely to be very soon."

Alaric closed his eyes. It was no time to think about that. Stefan would find a way. And if he didn't, he would only have to add another mark of doom in his love life. Stefan would find a way.

Stefan would find a way.

He patted Damon's head gently.

Stefan would find a way.

"I'll get you a blood bag."

The vampire sat on the bed of the cell, nodding absently. This was surreal. Not only Alaric had figured out his feelings for him, but he had also welcomed them.

He was still dying, the pain was still there, but he felt so great, so comfortable...

He didn't want to die anymore.

Damon hadn't really wanted to die in the first place, but as he was convinced he would never get anything else out of his life, and surely not love, he had sort of given up. Or maybe given in.

Voices caught his attention. He knew two of these. Alaric's.

And Liz Forbes'.

As he stood up, his head started to spin, he felt dizzy, and the world betrayed him. It was all a hallucination, certainly, that his infected mind was casting upon him, to make him believe he could have his happy ending. The door to the cell opened, he threw Liz against a wall, because, right, she was merely a hallucination, and ran away. He had to find Ric. The real Ric. Because this one was a hallucination, he knew that all too well. Damon Salvatore would never get his love back. Never.

Alaric stayed still, guns pointed at him, while a sick Damon rushed out surprising everyone.

Elizabeth Forbes walked out of the cell, holding her head.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?! You're helping a monster to kill innocent people!"

"We already had this conversation, Sheriff. You only don't remember it."