Restless Damon is restless.
Each a monster, part 2: His own head was filled with one man only
Damon was brushing his teeth when he heard Elena – who was more of less babysitting him at that point – say a name that made his heart beat faster. He dropped the toothbrush and blurred to the living room.
"Alaric called?!"
The teenager silently nodded, still glaring at her cellphone as if it was responsible for everything.
"He didn't even let me say one word and hung up. But he said he had heard about Ste..."
Elena stopped talking as she looked up. She stared at Damon for a long time as he started repining and pacing all around the place.. He had foamy toothpaste dropping out of the right corner of his mouth, that sometimes made bubbles when he spoke, but he didn't seem to care at all.
Or maybe he wasn't aware of it.
It made sense, after all, that vampires would brush their teeth as anyone else. Going around with dried blood between their teeth would have been highly suspicious.
But still. Damon Salvatore was fidgeting in his living room with foam dripping slowly from his chin to the floor.
Maybe this was a dream.
"Damon?"
The vampire stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. A white bubble of toothpaste blew up with a dicreet pop. He wiped it but still looked like he had more important stuff to deal with, important enough for him not to notice how ridiculous he looked.
Elena was going to ask what it was about when he made his mind.
"I'm going after him. I'll be back... someday."
"What? No!"
Damon frowned and evaded her attempt to seize his arm.
"I'm going. Besides, Jenna made him your legal guardian but he left before anyone could warn him and he has no idea about it. I'm going, I'll find him, and I'll take him back."
For everyone. Not only for himself, but for the kids, for Elena, for Jeremy, too.
For everyone. Not only for the kids, for Elena, for Jeremy, but for himself, too.
Elena sighed, and tried another approach.
"I'm worried about you, Damon. You are the first vampire in history to survive a werewolf's bite, and it took you hours to be healthy again. I'm not sure one single day will be enough for you to recover, and what if there are side effects? We're definitely not trusting Klaus' word that all you need is his blood."
The vampire rolled his eyes and walked to the door.
"And if he lied or even just didn't know what he wasn't talking about and I have side effects, what will you do? Worry all over me? Seriously, Elena, you can't do much about it because you're only a human, I can't do much about it because if that happen I will be the one unable to do anything, Bonnie can't do much about it because as powerful as she is she has little knowledge, so I might as well go and search for Ric. I promise I'll phone you if I start dying again."
And without saying anything else, he raced to his car.
He had lived the last hours in fits, his mind going from one extrem to the other. He had hated Alaric for leaving, he had decided he wouldn't care anymore, then he had cried himself dry in his bed, insulted Ric though the man was not present – for that exact reason too, that he wasn't present – he had loved Alaric enough to know he had to find a way to get him back if he didn't want to go ballistic once again.
For a time he had been compliant with Elena's wish to keep him under observation. To be frank, being falsely unable to act had been a relief, it had given him an excuse not to go after Ric right away and instead dwell in his own misery.
But shit.
Damon realized he could ask Andie for help before leaving. She could certainly find one or two things about the Saltzmans' current position in society through her acquaintances as a journalist. Sure, Andie wasn't a top five journalist, but she knew some people who were, and it couldn't hurt to know a bit more than what Gal had told him.
Galswinthe had been a great source of informations, of course. She had kept in touch with her family for centuries, but she had some issues understanding the latest economic and political landscape. And she couldn't come too close to the Saltzmans without it being obvious that something was wrong with her. So yes, she knew everyone in the family, some of them better than others, but that was all.
And she had confessed she had to stay in Mystic Falls in case her loony husband decided to take a trip here, searching for Klaus. Damon hadn't said anything about said husband being alive, as he had stayed silent about said husband being barmy. He had guessed said husband was dead, but if he was nuts, the story was still working fine.
Maybe he should be a bit more concerned about a crazy seven-hundreds-years-old vampire coming to town, but for now, his mind was clouded with Alaric's absence.
And Team Badass would do a better job dealing with the nutter if it was actually a team.
So, he had to find the hunter, that was it.
Or, well, he could simply admit he missed Ric, he wanted Ric, he needed Ric.
No one was spying on his thoughts, after all. No need to act though guy for even in his own head.
So, determined to talk to Andie, even if she might have to work this day, Damon headed to her place. He'd wait here till the night if he had to.
Luckily, after twelve minutes of pleasant pacing and fidgeting, the young journalist came home. Surprised to found her distressed friend, well, distressed, she raised an eyebrow and let him in.
Damon felt strangely happy when she did.
She knew she didn't have to. She knew what it meant to invite in a vampire.
Yet she had.
"Can you tell me anything about a family living mostly in Boston, the Saltzmans?"
Andie blinked, unsure of what to make of the situation.
"I can ask a friend who lives there, but... isn't that Alaric's family?"
She asked no more questions when she saw Damon's reaction.
What she managed to find out was interesting, to say the least.
The Saltzman Family was... incredibly rich and important and unsuspected considering its secret history. Even knowing about them was incredible, as they were amazingly discreet for such a powerful and frightening family.
"What are you going to do?"
Andie seemed really concerned. She hadn't seen her friend so restless in a long time.
Actually, since their talk in his bedroom, when she had understood what the vampire felt for his best friend.
Damon looked away for a while, then finally got the cat out of the bag.
"I... confessed."
Andie was pleased, but she knew there was more to it. If not, then why was Damon looking so lost?
"And?"
"He accepted me."
Well, that was one way to say it. Very... cautious. Something had gone wrong, obviously, but the journalist couldn't guess what. After all, if the two men had come to terms with their feelings for each other, why weren't they busy, together, somewhere, doing stuff that had her blushing only thinking about it?
Because yeah, Damon was so not the kind of guy who would let his newfound lover get away without doing the actual thing during their first date once.
Or twice.
Or the whole night.
Damon looked embarassed. Which wasn't usual for him.
He almost blurted out the rest of the story under her stubborn gaze.
"And I kind of almost died and he thought I was dead and he left and he won't take my calls and I have to find him and I love him so much I can't even think straight right now no pun intended."
Andie was going to tell him to calm down, that it was alright, but the vampire became paler.
"A call. Right. He called Elena. So his new number should be in her phone."
Damon was pretty much in the middle of the street, rushing to his car, when he thought better of it and searched for the mirror in which Rose was trapped.
He wasn't exactly sure why he believed Andie could be in danger anytime soon, but it couldn't hurt to give it to her. With some luck, the spell on the compact mirror hadn't been a one-time-thing, and it would still work if the journalist was in any mortal danger. Andie lived in Mystic Falls, and knew about the supernatural side of the world. There were so many reasons for her to get involved in some vampires or witches' business, and Damon wouldn't be here to protect her if anything happened.
It'd be for the best if he gave her the mirror.
And frankly, the vampire wouldn't have been able to bear the presence of another person in his car while going after Ric, even if the person was trapped in a mirror and couldn't talk to him or anything.
So he went back, gave it to Andie, compelled her to have it all the time with her, and rushed to his car once again, before heading to the boarding house where he hoped to find Elena.
Truthfully, he hoped he wouldn't see Elena, who was too eager to have him grounded. But he hoped to snatch away her cellphone without her noticing. Which shouldn't be so difficult.
Unless she was glued to her phone, talking to whoever she was sharing her anxiety about Damon with, with the whole argument about how-she-had-no-idea-what-had-gotten-into-him-but-she-feared-he-might-do-something-harsh-and-what-do-you-mean-Damon-is-a-murderous-ass-anyway?
The vampire mused about the identity of her interlocuter. He was too far away to pick up anything more than an irritated mumbling. Surely Bonnie or Caroline.
Eitherway, not his business.
The vampire didn't mean to sound awful, but he had his own problems to deal with. He knew Elena had been having a terrible life lately – and who could blame her for being devastated and searching for solace after all the people who had died? – but his own head was filled with one man only.
After one long hour and a half of the girls' chatting, Damon was ready to jump from the roof to put an end to his torment. He remembered nearly too late that it wasn't going to happen, and throwing himself from the roof would only result in great pain and Elena coming and deciding he was to be restrained before he tried another attempt against his life and well-being.
When she finally let go of her cellphone – and the world knew how long he had wished for that moment – Damon came in carefully. Elena had left her phone on the couch and was somewhere else, luckily. The vampire listened to her pacing – first floor, apparently – and took a look at the incoming calls.
Damon searched and searched and searched for the right hour, but all he could fine was...
Hell! Why had Alaric decided to withhold his new phone number?
The vampire winced.
Because the hunter wanted nothing to do with Mystic Falls anymore.
Hopefully, he'd still want them to be happy together, once he'd know Damon wasn't dead-dead yet.
Oh please let it be that way.
The vampire heard footsteps coming this way and run out as fast as he could – so, pretty fast – before Elena could get a glimpse of his presence in the house.
He wasn't sure being tied down to a bed with daily vervain infusions to keep him under control until no one had any doubt that he wouldn't go rabid and off half the city because of some weird side effects left was the best way to get his boyfriend back.
More like, he was certain it wasn't the way to have Alaric back at all.
And he needed Alaric, that he knew for sure.
And Alaric needed him, that being a fair assumption from him, but an assumption that was backed up with what Gal had said about Falkenbachs and Saltzmans and coping with grief.
Damon got in his blue Camaro, still not certain whether he was anxious or delighted.
He'd have Alaric Saltzman, everybody could be assured of that.
He'd do anything for the two of them to be together.
