Sorry for the wait, but I'm kind of... Off-schedule, I guess? for the holidays. Especially since I'm working for all of July and August, 4 days a week. It's my first summer job, and well... Anyway. It doesn't ean I won't post, only, I'm literally not following any kind of schedule until september, for all of my fics.


One world apart, part 19: It had actually happened

Damon winced as he pulled himself back up. He wasn't sure why it had happened, but the dull feeling in his gut, the way everything was still a bit fuzzy around him, and, most obviously, the fact that he was currently sprawled out in a corridor of the local high school, instead of being, oh, you know, chasing the oldest monster around... All those facts made it pretty clear that indeed, it had happened.

No matter how ridiculous it sounded, it had actually happened.

The vampire winced painfully, as he struggled to, at least, sit up. Not that he didn't like the cold feeling of the floor against his left cheek, of course. He just had more important things to do.

Such as keeping Elena from getting murdered by Katherine, or worse, by Silas.

Damon kind of liked Elena, after all. She was like that annoying little sister, who is sometimes annoying, but well, figures, it's in the job description, and that he just couldn't manage not to care about. Moreover, Stefan was finally becoming less uptight... Would the word be "uploose", then? No, certainly not. Where was his mind going, again?

Right. Vervain shot. He wasn't losing it... Loosing it... Argh! Only the after effects of being shot full of vervain by Elena, surely.

Because, yes, that was it, the right train of thought, just here, he could do it! So, because what had happened previously, leading to him being sprawled out on the floor like that, was that Elena's anger at Katherine had finally gotten the best out of her, and the young vampire had recklessly concluded she'd go and beat the older doppelganger to a pulp. And to do that, Elena had shot Damon full of vervain, forgetting that they were here to deal with Silas before anything else.

Under normal circumstances, Damon would be all for beating Katherine to a pulp, he had to admit. But the Immortal going around and killing people was enough of a problem for now. And Katherine was like, five times stronger than Elena in sheer strength, and much more experienced. And did he say he didn't appreciate to be vervained, again?

It hurt, damn it!

The vampire took a deep breath, feeling more and more clear-headed. Good, it was all coming back to him. The vervain was loosing its effects. Great. Soon, he'd be able to stand up.

Damon tried to stand up. The world waltzed around him.

Right. Soon, not now. Soon wasn't yet. Soon was soon. So he'd just... stay here, sitting on the floor, for now. Breathing in, breathing out... Hoping Elena wouldn't get herself killed while he regained his bearings... Hoping no one, except Silas and perhaps Katherine, would get killed in the meantime because he needed a few more seconds of rest.

He didn't blame Elena, truly, though he was a bit angry at her nonetheless. The girl had barely reigned in her urge to turn off her humanity, after Jeremy's death, and with all the other things her doppelganger had done previously... It wasn't exactly surprising that Elena had snapped.

Damon would just have liked it better if she hadn't snapped this very day, and, say, tomorrow instead?

Just as he was having these thoughts, the vampire's hearing picked up something coming towards him. Damon froze, and kept himself from breathing, something he could actually do if he focused hard enough, but that was still very uncomfortable. He didn't want to alert whoever was coming to his presence, especially since he couldn't really defend himself in this state. Hell, he couldn't even stand on his own feet, so defending himself? Fighting? Not going to happen.

Footsteps.

Those were footsteps. And the person to whom these footsteps belonged was definitely coming in his very direction. Intentionally or not, the person would soon get to him, and, unless Damon managed to crawl all the way to the next door in the following minute, which seemed very unlikely, the person would see him, helpless and easily taken care of.

Because let's be realistic, there was no way the person was just a random kid who had decided to break into the school when there wasn't school. No teenager should be that much of a masochist. And even if some were, in Mystic Falls, people who ended up in places they shouldn't be usually died a terrible and undeserved death. Especially when a bunch of supernatural beings were playing tag in that same place. So either this was an ally, and Damon would never hear the end of it when they'd find him, or this was an enemy, and Damon was screwed.

The footsteps stopped only a handful of meters away from the place where the yet-unknown person would be able to see him. The vampire tensed.

Waiting.

Which one was waiting for the other, he could not tell. Was he waiting for the unknow man / vampire / whatever-suited-the-guy,-even-considering-that-it-might-not-be-a-guy, or was the unknown person waiting for him? Who would reveal themselves first, Damon, or the possible enemy? Would the person walk into view first, or would the vampire breathe a tad too loudly, would his heart beat a bit too fast? Would he see, or would he be heard first?

Was he going to die?

No, Damon was totally not panicking. Absolutely not. It wasn't as if a handful of people wanted him dead, for good reasons, and a number of other people wanted him dead just because. Not at all.

It was not the time for his heart to start beating like that! Maybe it was because of the vervain shot, but nonetheless. It wasn't the right time for him to go all scared-little-boy. The vampire could have sworn his heartbeat could be heard from the other side of the school, perhaps even from underground. Louder. Louder! Louder! Loud enough that anyone, even a simple human being, could tell he was here. And as he grew more scared that his heart would betray him, it got worse...

It was the vervain, it was the ver...

Damon didn't hear the footsteps resuming, so focused on his own uncontrolled fear as he was.

But he definitely heard the voice. Mocking him gently. Mocking him, yes, but lovingly.

The vampire's head snapped up, despite the haze he still was in.

Eyes met.

Something wet rolled down one of his cheeks, and tumbled on his lips clumsily. It tasted of salt.

Alaric crouched down, and the ghost's fingers trailed the path taken by the tear. Ric had a small grin on his face, almost full of himself, Damon could tell. But it wasn't what mattered.

What mattered was that the vampire had felt his lover's touch. The dampness left by the tear had disappeared, taken away by the skin of the supposedly-dead hunter. The supposedly-ghostly hunter. The hunter he had been unable to actually touch for months. The man... or, rather, vampire, now – the vampire he loved.

He could feel his touch. He could...

"Did you miss me, perhaps?"

There was still something otherworldly to his voice, as if they weren't completely on the same plane of existence, but Alaric was indeniably here. Corporeal. As he hadn't been in months.

"Don't flatter yourself. Elena vervained me, and I'm a mess. That's all, buddy. I'm not crying for you."

The ghost seemed amused for a moment.

"Right, I believe you. But I believe we have an Immortal to hunt, don't we? Speaking of which, was it really Elena? Silas seems to be able to impersonate just anyone."

"Oh, it was her. She just learned Katherine was around, and well, she... snapped, I guess. If she had been Silas, I'd be dead, not vervained..."

Realizing what he had just said really meant, Damon froze again. How could he have been so...!

Ric helped him up, but the older vampire now had a strange glint in his eyes, and he stood a bit more stiffly than what was usual for his laid-back attitude. If the ghost hadn't know any better, he'd have said Damon was even schifting away from him ever so slowly.

Which was completely ridiculous, right?

"Damon...?"

The vampire squinted at the ghost, bracing himself for utter disappointment.

"You're Silas, aren't you? That's why I could feel you. You're not actually a ghost."

Alaric blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

"The... The Veil, Damon. Bonnie dropped it. That's why I'm corporeal. I am your Alaric."

The hunter heard Damon's heart miss a beat, but he also saw the vampire take a step back, unbelieving. His own heart, as dead as it was, felt suddenly crushed. His smile melted, and he took a step towards his Damon.

The vampire staggered a bit, and found himself with his back against the high school lockers.

Ric felt really cold, all of a sudden. Damon... Damon, once again, wasn't allowing himself to hope.

But the cold turned warm, and hot, and burning, and anger seized the hunter. His features hardened, and his face almost turned scary.

Damon flinched again, as if this had just confirmed his suspicions, but before he could say anything, two arms blocked him against the lockers.

Alaric, his hands firmly pressed against the metal, looked his lover right in the eyes, right in the soul, as some would say. The frightening look on his face disappeared, but he still looked grave, and, maybe, a bit dangerous. Only, not so terrifying anymore.

It wasn't his goal, after all.

Damon couldn't say anything. His brain hadn't gone down, yet, but his control over his body certainly had. Only Ric's warm breath seemed to be enough, to shut down all physical reactions. And the vampire had no idea how to reboot it.

Not that it was his main concern, for now.

His main concern took the form of one very attractive, very corporeal, very... hardening... history teacher / hunter / original vampire, Alaric J. Saltzman, boyfriend extraordinaire. And, once again, supposedly dead. And, though it wasn't something Damon liked to think about, possibly being currently impersonated by one freaking witchy Immortal.

Murderously so, the witchy Immortal.

So, Silas or not-Silas, that was the question.

Personally, Damon was all for not-Silas, but since when was life fair with him, or even slightly obliging?

Again, if that was Silas, and not Alaric, the bastard was trying very hard to convince the vampire that he wasn't who he was... Damon mused as two lips drew closer and closer to his own. Very, very hard. Seducingly hard.

Speaking of hardness...

Ric kissed his loved one with caution, at first. Only being able to feel it, again, lips against lips, breath against breath, warmth against warmth... It was slowly drowning the accumulated anger that had been plaguing him since the Veil had been dropped. He had a feeling it wouldn't be permanent, and that as soon as they'd get separated, it would build up again, but well, he took what he could.

And apparently, he was being offered more than he had first feared.

Damon, despite his disbelief, was definitely responding. They were almost stuck together at that point, and a sly grin pulled at the ghost's lips when he felt something twitch against his thigh. Something that wasn't his.

Immediately, the kiss went from cautious to passionate, Ric broke his lover's resistance with his tongue, and his hands left the lockers to get a better hold of Damon himself. The vampire moaned a bit, even if he would outright deny it later on, and the "something" that had twitched just before suddenly sprang to life. Alaric definitely witnessed his boyfriend blushing crimson, between his lashes, and his decision was made.

That wasn't something Silas would have done, even for the sake of impersonation – or he hoped so.

Dropping to his knees, he quickly opened Damon's fly, his eyes dark with lust as the vampire's cock, as hard as could be, was revealed for him only. His lips stayed for an instant on the head, as if contemplating how to proceed from here, but it only lasted an instant. What happened then was another story. A story which made Damon melt once more, and hope again.

Still, because he was Damon freaking Salvatore, he managed to gasp, between two groans.

"If you eventually prove to be Silas, I am so going to remember this and hate you forever."

Alaric preferred not to point out that the vampire already hated Silas, and possibly forever too. Instead, he chose to act with maturity for the two of them, since Damon apparently was unable to do it for himself.

In other words, the ghost tried to growl an outraged "Damon!" in annoyance. But his mouth was already quite busy otherwise, so it cannot be said if the vampire heard him or not.