Set in 3x20
Each a monster, part 37: Walking on borrowed time
It hurt.
And at the same time, it didn't.
Alaric felt like he was dying when he woke up.
That might have been because he actually was dead, yet wasn't.
The teacher looked down at his chest. That was where it felt strange. And what he saw confirmed it. It was bloody. Blood. His own. His blood. Out of his veins and arteries. Out of his body, on his ripped shirt. Out of his heart, because there had been a huge hole in it only minutes before.
He wasn't sure how he knew, because he couldn't remember anything after the hunter had taken over his body, but he had that feeling, that there should have been a hole in his chest, a hole right in his heart, and that it was the reason for all the blood.
Well, it seemed he had died. Again.
Alaric forced himself up, and it wasn't easy, for he felt heavy, very heavy, as if his bones were weighing one ton each. As if he wasn't supposed to be back up. As if he was supposed to stay put, because he was supposed to be dead, and dead people weren't supposed to stand up out of their own will ever again.
Alaric forced himself up, and it wasn't easy, because he felt too light too, as if he wasn't in his body, as if it was only his soul / mind / spirit / call-it-whatever-you-prefer that was standing up, and so his body didn't want to get up, because it wasn't part of him anymore. He was having trouble feeling his body, he realized, as if he wasn't really in it anymore.
Alaric forced himself up, and it wasn't easy, since he felt very heavy and too light at the same time.
This wasn't the usual resurrection process.
He tried to look around, to recognize the place, but for now, everything was just too bright... or too dark. He could only see pitch black pierced here and there by a yellow light. A bit as if he had a hangover, and yet not quite.
Ric squinted, and eventually managed to see something more than yellow and black. If he focused on the in-between...
This was the Salvatore crypt.
What was he doing in the crypt?
Last thing he knew, he was supposed to get the hunter out so that they could find the last white oak stake...
And now he was in the crypt, feeling he had died once more, and yet unable to remember, feeling this wasn't a normal resurrection, and by the way, when had resurrection become something normal? What had happened?
Alaric brought his hand to his face, and squinted harder. The candles were too bright, and the darkness was to somber. He couldn't see very well, but it was getting better.
He blinked.
Ric had died, he was sure of that. And now he was alive again, even if he wasn't feeling very well. But there was no Gilbert ring on his finger.
He brought the other hand before his eyes. Maybe he had put it on the wrong hand. With everything that had happened lately, he felt he had every right to be confused about one thing or two.
But what had happened lately?
He still wasn't sure.
Alaric blinked, and looked back to the first hand he had looked at. And then back at the second hand he had looked at. There was no ring.
And yet he wasn't dead anymore, and yet he was alive again.
A strange taste on his tongue caught his attention. He knew he was familiar with this taste, but... He couldn't tell what it was. As if it had become something else, not in itself, of course, but to him.
Ric froze. There were voices outside the crypt.
He knew these voices. But they weren't quite the same as before. It was as if they were louder, in a way, even if he knew they were not just near him. Not, not louder. Clearer, maybe.
The taste of blood in his mouth was soon forgotten as another taste invaded his mouth. Bitter. Bile.
So obvious. He wasn't dead. But it didn't mean he was alive either.
Undead.
Turning.
And no Damon Salvatore in sight. If his vampire of a boyfriend had anything to do with this...! But no, no Damon in sight. And Damon wouldn't have staked him in the heart, he would have broken his neck. And Damon would be there, to force-feed him if needed now that he was turning.
And Damon wasn't here, so he most likely had nothing to do with it. The hunter was the culprit, Alaric was sure of it, though he felt it was kind of illogical for the most-anti-vampire-cursed-guy-in-town to turn himself into a vampire.
Screams.
The voices outside had gone from whispers to screams of fear and despair.
He picked up the stake that was lying next to him, and recognized the white oak stake. Well, at least he now knew where it was. The only question being, why was it covered in metal?
Panic.
They were panicking, outside. He had no time to wonder about that. The stake was the only weapon he could use in the crypt, and he had nothing to destroy it right now, so he'd better join the screaming people out there, and if he could, put an end to it.
He thought he recognized Elena, Jeremy and Matt's voices. And another voice, but...
Who was it?
"He will end the horror I brought upon the Earth when I made my children into vampires, Elena. You can't stop it, and you shouldn't try. No one is supposed to escape death forever."
He knew the voice. He knew it. It was a woman... a woman he had met, but a woman he had met before meeting her. It didn't make any sense... But he knew she had talked to him many times, before he had even got to meet her in Mystic Falls. He remembered her voice...
And the words that sounded so true when she talked, as if she was charming everyone with her voice alone. He knew these words... And the hunter knew them too. He was the one who had met her first. This woman... She had something to do with his latest death.
Alaric grabbed the white oak stake, and stood up, slowly, with difficulty, because his body was heavy. Or not really here. He wasn't sure. It wasn't that it really hurt. More like the ghost of a long forgotten pain. He knew, in his brain, that it hurt. His punctured heart. His scar that was certainly red and bulging. But in his body, he didn't quite feel it. It was there, and yet it wasn't.
He was dead, and yet he wasn't.
Actually, he wasn't even undead yet, because he hadn't completed the transition. He wasn't a vampire... Yet he wasn't dead nor alive. Walking on borrowed time.
"Mikael was a good Hunter, of course, but he was only a bit stronger than our children. He was an original vampire, and nothing more, with a slight difference in force due to his built. That's the reason he never managed to kill Klaus. He wasn't enough. But Alaric Saltzman... Not only did I make him even stronger than an Original Vampire, so that he'll be able to face the original hybrid, but he is a bearer of the Falkenbach Curse, a curse older than even vampires. Whispers were heard in all Europe when I was first alive. Even all the way to Norway, when they were from what has now become Germany. The Falkenbachs... They were humans, and yet, I believe they were as dangerous as werewolves when in human form."
This woman... She was talking about him.
And she seemed to know things about his family he wasn't privy to.
Ric got out of the crypt, and saw the blond woman talking to Jeremy and Matt, who were pointing their weapons at each other and didn't seem to be able to change anything about it. Next to them, Elena was panicking, trying to get Esther to stop whatever she was doing.
"If the legend is true, they are the greatest killers mankind will ever know. Considering how their curse came into existence, it wouln't be surprising. Alaric is the obvious choice to end the abomination I created. Once the hunter will have become 'Alaric', this story will end."
Esther?
Esther.
The original witch. Even if it wasn't quite accurate, because it would have implied she was the first witch ever, which she wasn't. But she was the witch who had created the Originals, so maybe it could be called accurate, in another way – the Original Witch ?
Whatever.
She was the one forcing the boys to threaten both their lives, and Alaric wasn't going to let her do that. She had done enough damage as it was.
He walked to them, slowly, with difficulty, and no one paid him any attention. He wasn't going to blame them, and frankly, it was for the best right now. It was almost too late, Esther was about to make the two boys shoot each other... It was almost too late...
The teacher caught her by the neck as he pushed the white oak stake in her back, killing her on the spot. He was pretty certain he had broken her spine in doing so.
The Original Witch fell to the ground, and he was left with three young people gaping at him. A pity, he could have asked her what she knew about the Falkenbachs. How they had been cursed in ancient times. And then, find a way to undo this curse.
Because there was always a loophole.
But for now, the loophole was laying dead in a cemetery – not that it wasn't an appropriate place to do just that, but still. Ric looked at the corpse at his feet, and then back to Elena and the boys.
What happened next wasn't a happy moment. When he asked why he was there, why the Gilbert ring had disappeared, Elena thought he hadn't understood he was in transition. So she explained to him everything that had happened, and he didn't tell her he had understood. It wouldn't do them any good. The stake coudn't be destroyed anymore, and he was going to die. For real, this time.
They tried to convince him to turn...
But he wouldn't.
If he did, he knew the hunter would take over before long, and no one would be safe. An enhanced Original with the Falkenbach Curse and a white oak stake that couldn't be destroyed? If the hunter completed the transition, they were all doomed.
And even if he turned, he couldn't even fight against the hunter for control. He knew it. He didn't have much time left. The hunter would overcome him as soon as he'd feed. So he wasn't going to.
Elena called everyone who mattered, and they came from the decade dance, finally free of Esther's spell. It was almost humoristic how many of them were his students, or supernatural beings. Or both. It was definitely not a regular funeral wake. Then again, not many people could be present at their own funeral wake without faking their death. And not many people had died seven times before it came to this.
When they left, Alaric went back inside the crypt, and Damon joined him.
They sat and the vampire took out a bottle of bourbon.
"Do I get a last kiss?"
Ric snorted. He wasn't going to be fooled.
"Certainly not. You'd be able to force-feed me by regurgitation of someone's blood. We both know I can't afford that."
There was a silence, as they both looked far in the distance. Damon as well as Ric knew without a doubt there was no deeper meaning to their behavior, besides avoiding to look at the other's face.
"You could try, at least."
"Even if I turned, Damon, it wouldn't be me anymore. And it would only be worst for you, because I know he loves you as much as I do... Only, the hunter would rather see you dead than a vampire. You wouldn't be able to do anything against him, and not only physically speaking. You know it."
Alaric felt tears slip out of his eyes. It was terrible, when he thought about it. It was their last moment, and he couldn't find anything to say that wasn't reasoning.
He finally turned to Damon, and looked him in the eyes.
"It's strange, you know. I was never truly humane to begin with, and now that I am not a human being anymore... I feel more humane. Maybe it's death. Maybe it's because I will finally be like everyone else. Dead, in the end."
Before leaving, Damon took Ric's head in his hands, and kissed his forehead.
Alaric finally felt the false life in him disappear, and he closed his eyes.
