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He should have left.
He knows that he should have, with every fiber in his being.
Because being here, right now, was a bad idea. A very, very, bad idea.
But it felt so good.
Damon refilled their glasses with the amber liquid. The bottle was over half empty, and he was pretty sure Elena was feeling a buzz.
She was smiling at him, as he sat the bottle down, and raised his glass to her.
She did the same, before bringing it to her lips.
Lips that he couldn't stop staring at.
He knew, without a doubt, that he had made the right choice, in deciding to stay in Mystic Falls. To be there for Christian…his son.
And even though the idea sounded weird in his head, he planned on doing everything he could to make up for the past.
However, getting drunk with his ex-girlfriend, the love of his life, and the mother of his child, probably wasn't the smartest move to make.
He should have left, went home, after Chris took off.
But Elena had looked so small, so lost…he couldn't just take off and leave her like that, even if he was only going up the road.
So he did what he did best. Poured them a drink.
That was at least three hours ago.
Part of his mind was aware of the fact that the sun had gone down, that it was getting late, and he probably should stop refilling their glasses if he planned on driving home.
But something in Elena's carefreeness, her laughter, and her relaxed easiness, had him grounded.
They had talked, mostly about Christian at first.
Damon now knew his son's birthday, his favorite color, what classes he loved, and hated, the names of his best friends, and girlfriend, and most of the embarrassing childhood stories that every parent was responsible for cherishing.
Elena hadn't hesitated to answer any of his questions, as far as Chris was concerned. But then the conversation moved on.
They talked about their jobs, their past relationships.
He was surprised to hear that Elena hadn't really dated much.
Well, neither had he, unless you counted hook ups with random strangers.
But Elena wasn't that kind of girl, that kind of woman. He could tell.
It was definitely a strange realization for him, as they swapped stories and memories.
Elena was so much like she used to be. So beautiful, and bright.
Yet, she had changed.
There was something about her that seemed stronger, fiercer.
A trait that reared when she talked about their son.
He had no doubt that she was an amazing mother. He could hear it in her voice.
She loved Christian, so much.
He was literally the center of her universe, and something in Damon yearned to understand that love.
To get to know his son, to be the father that Chris deserved.
He just had no clue how to start.
"Are you hungry or anything?" Elena asked after a moment, their conversation dying down.
Damon leaned further back into his seat, "If I eat anything right now, it's just going to come right back up."
He chuckled when her nose scrunched, "You're gross."
"Just honest," he grinned, "Drinking 101, don't eat anything after shot number three."
Elena smirked, "I'll remember that for next time."
Damon raised a brow. Next time?
Before he could tease her, the front door opened, and they both jumped a little.
"Chris?" Elena called, and sure enough, the kid appeared in the opening of the living room.
"Home," he stated, his eyes spotting Damon, "He's still here?"
Damon answered before Elena could, "Just catching up, and enjoying this bottle of Mystic Grill's finest."
He lifted the drink toward his son, "Thanks, by the way."
Chris almost seemed amused, "So the bottle made it…too bad you can't say the same for your window."
Damon chucked, "Trying to get a rise out of me?"
Chris sighed, walking into the room, sitting next to Elena on the sofa, "So, can we get this over with, I need to get ready for bed soon."
Damon looked at Elena, but she seemed just as confused.
He focused back on his son, "What exactly is the 'this' we're supposed to be getting over?"
Chris raised a brow, "Stolen bottle, broken window, big fight, me storming out…let me know as soon as anything rings a bell."
Damon smirked, "You're waiting for a lecture?"
Chris grunted, "Live in the same house as her," he motioned to Elena, "And you learn the drill pretty quick. Lectures are an important part of a teenager's development after all…"
Elena shot him a look, "Excuse me, mister, that's what your grandmother says, not me."
Chris raised a brow, "So you're not going to lecture me?"
She copied him, "Do you need to be lectured?"
Chris's gaze shifted between the two of them, "Okay, seriously, where's the fireworks? The groundings? The rule changing? Mom, can you start yelling at me? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone."
Elena stared at him for a moment, then sighed.
"No, Chris…I'm not going to yell at you."
She stood then, leaning over to kiss his head, "I'm going to go take a shower, then go to bed...I suggest you do the same, soon."
She left then, throwing a parting glance at Damon, before walking down the hall to her room, leaving a confused Chris alone with his father.
Damon took a deep breath as Chris turned, looking at him.
The awkwardness was so thick, he could have cut it with a knife, but he didn't want to be pushy.
He knew that the ultimate decision, about the relationship he wanted, was up to his son.
"So," Chris started after a moment, "She's gone now…you gonna chew my ass about the window, or what?"
Damon held his gaze, feeling a shiver as he stared at the blend of Elena and himself.
"No, I'm not."
"Why not?" Chris demanded, "You gotta be pissed about it. And why didn't you rat me out after? Even before you knew who I was, you saw me, at the grill last night…why didn't you tell Mom, or call the sheriff?"
Damon set his glass down, "Well, to answer your first question, I'm the last person to be lecturing you. Like you so blatantly pointed out, I'm not your dad. I haven't earned that right. And I didn't call the police, or rat to your mother, because I was your age once, too. My track record wasn't exactly the cleanest, not that I stole alcohol from the Grill, but still…even if we didn't share DNA, tattling is a dick move. And though it may be considered bad parenting, I can say that I was impressed that you managed to pull that plan off."
Chris seemed surprised by the answer, however, he cleared his throat, "But you're still mad."
"Yes, I'm pissed," Damon admitted, "Who wouldn't be? However, knowing who you are now…I get it. I get why you'd be angry enough to waste a perfectly good, free bottle of liqueur in hopes of damaging my car…not that I condone it."
Chris shook his head, "I don't think you know me well enough to actually get it."
Damon shrugged, "Fair enough…but that could change."
Chris raised a brow, "Is this the part where we break into tears, have some cliché father/son bonding, and ride off into the sunset?"
"No," Damon allowed, pulling both his and Elena's glasses over to refill them, "This is where we have a drink, talk about all the ways I've screwed up, and decide what we want to do next."
He picked up the glass, offering it to Christian.
The teen's eyes widened a little, "Are you being serious? You know Mom will kill you if she finds out you're letting me drink."
Damon shrugged it off, "Well, then I'll be dead, and you're off the hook. Besides, I'm buzzed enough that I probably won't feel much of the pain anyway."
Chris considered this, then reached over, taking the glass.
They both turned it up, and Damon was a little surprised at how well the kid held his liqueur.
"More?"
Chris slid the glass back to him, and Damon refilled it.
"So, what exactly is this?" Chris questioned, "Getting me drunk so I'll decide to like you or something? Because I have to say, it's a little concerning that your first act of fatherhood is letting me have a glass of the tequila I stole."
Damon took a swig from his own glass, "It's not like you don't already do it anyway. You can psychoanalyze all you want…but in truth, I have no idea what else to do. There's not exactly a manual to trying to start a relationship with your newly discovered teenage son. So, I'm doing what I'm good at doing, which is getting drunk, and probably making your mother hate me. So can you play morality police some other time? It's been a bit of a long day."
Christian had no idea what to think.
Part of him wanted to believe that this was Damon's manipulative way of breaking down his walls, but something told him that that wasn't true.
The man was just as confused as he was…just as lost on what to do.
"So, uh, now that the drinking part is started, are we moving on to talking about the ways you've screwed up?"
Damon stared at him, "If that's what you want."
Chris scoffed, "Alright, then which indiscretion should we start with?"
Damon leaned further into the chair, "Well, that list could go on all night. How about cutting to the chase…I know that you hate me."
"And to think that I was trying so hard to hide it," Chris mocked offense, "What's your point?"
Damon sighed, "My point, is that like it or not, Chris, I am your father. It's a fucked up situation, but it's what we got. So we can beat around the bush, or we can just lay it out. I've made bad choices in my life. I have plenty of regrets, and I'm going to screw up in the future. I'm not trying to pretend like this will all be peachy perfect. But I do want the chance to be in your life. And that's only going to happen if you decide that that's what you want. So whatever we need to do, or talk about, to make you hate me less, let's get it over with."
Chris studied his father.
Hating the man was so much easier than sticking out an olive branch.
He wanted to hate him.
But some ache in his chest, some long wished, unfulfilled desire made him hesitate.
I would be easy to make a smart ass comment, kick the guy out, and carry on with his life.
Simple.
But then this chance may never come again.
For the first time in his life, his father was there, looking at him, offering him something that he use to fantasize about as a child.
He swallowed, "So where do we start?"
He didn't miss the light smile that spread across Damon's face, "How about from the beginning?"
Chris raised a brow, "Meaning?"
Damon put the glass down, and stood, motioning for Chris to do the same.
Once they were both on their feet, Damon exhaled, then offered his hand, "Damon Giuseppe Salvatore."
Chris bit his lip, before sighing, and reaching out, shaking his father's hand, "Christian James Salvatore."
Damon's grip was firm, "It's great to finally meet you…Son."
Elena awoke to her alarm blaring its usual nonsense.
She checked the time, and groaned.
She had to get up, get ready for work, wake up Chris, get him off to school, and then find some aspirin for her headache.
She probably shouldn't have drank so much last night.
She yawned, vaguely remembering the last bit of her conversation with Damon.
Then Chris had come home…and she had gotten so tired, but they had been talking…and the rest was a blur.
She shook her head, walking into the bathroom to splash some water on her face.
She'd just have to call Damon later, make sure that she didn't embarrass herself too badly.
Within record time, she had put on her slacks, heels, and her favorite red V-necked sweater.
She ran a curling iron through her hair, threw on some light make up, and decided that she looked presentable enough.
Opening her bedroom door, she crossed the hall, to knock on Chris's.
When he didn't answer, she opened it slightly.
Chris wasn't in his bed.
In fact, he wasn't even in his room.
"What in the…" she trailed off as she walked toward the living room, and stopped.
Damon and Chris were both passed out on opposite ends of the couch, their feet on the coffee table, an empty bottle between them.
What exactly did she miss last night?
"Chris," she called, moving to shake the boy's shoulder, "Time to wake up."
He stirred a little, his movement waking up Damon.
"What time is it?" he groaned, looking around.
"It's twenty minutes until eight," Elena sighed, shaking Chris again, "Which means that you need to hurry and get ready for school."
Chris grumbled, "No. My head hurts."
Elena raised a brow, "Well, that's what you get for staying up drinking."
Chris groaned, but began to move, "His idea…"
Elena turned an accusing eye on her ex, "Really, Damon? On a school night? You had to get him drunk on a school night?"
Damon only smirked, his eyes closing, "He's fine…and no one got drunk…just tipsy."
Chris stretched a little, standing, "I'll go get dressed."
He kissed Elena's head before taking off to his room.
She turned her attention back to Damon.
"What in the hell happened last night?"
He pulled himself into a sitting position, "We…talked."
She raised a brow, "Talked?"
Damon nodded, "Yeah, but you seem like you're in a hurry, so we should probably wait until later before getting into the good stuff."
She checked the time, "Yeah, you may actually be right. I need to get Chris's breakfast done, and then I need to find my purse, so I can get the flash drives out for the article's-"
Damon placed a hand on her shoulder, "Breathe, Elena."
She did as he said, and he smiled, "I'll throw something together for Chris, you go find your purse."
"Are you sure?" she asked, perplexed.
Damon nodded, "Of course…now go."
She didn't have to be told twice, and disappeared to take care of her business.
Fifteen minutes later, she was making her way into the kitchen, and found Damon loading her dish washer, while Chris finished what appeared to be the remainder of an omelet.
"Everything okay in here?" she asked.
"Yeah, just picking up," Damon answered, "Your breakfast is waiting on the counter."
She looked over and noticed the plate, with the rather large cheesy omelet on it.
"Thanks, but I should be going soon. My boss hates it when we-"
"Mom, you really should eat," Chris objected, "Besides, this isn't that bad."
Damon scoffed, "Not that bad? Excuse me, my omelets are legendary."
"No," Chris argued, "Grandma Val's omelets are legendary. Yours aren't that bad."
Damon shook his head, but he had a smirk on his face.
A horn sounded outside then, and Christian rose from his seat, "That's Tyler, I gotta go."
He gave Elena a quick hug, grabbed his bag, and threw a glance at Damon.
"So, uh…thanks for breakfast, Damon."
Damon shrugged, "No problem."
Chris gave him a nod, then turned, hurrying out the door.
Elena wanted to ask, curious about what had happened last night, but she really was going to be late if she didn't leave soon.
"You should eat," Damon told her.
"I know, but I really need to-"
"Elena," he stepped around the island, bring the plate and a fork to her, "Just sit down and eat your damn breakfast."
She met his gaze, then chuckled, "Fine…but it's gotta be fast. I need to get going."
Damon nodded, and she sat down.
She bit into the egg and was surprised at how good it was.
It had been a while since she'd eaten breakfast of any kind.
"Damon Salvatore can cook…who knew?"
He smirked, "My mother trained me well."
"Ah," Elena took another hurried bite. Valentina was admittedly, the best chef she'd ever met. That woman could make trash taste edible.
As she ate, Damon watched her.
She found it a bit disturbing after a moment, and tried to strike up a conversation, "So…last night?"
He raised a brow, "I thought you wanted to wait to talk."
She shrugged, finishing the last few bites of her food, "I'm curious."
Damon grabbed a glass, opened her fridge, and pulled out the orange juice, before sitting both in front of her.
"Do you get a lunch break?"
She nodded, as she filled the cup, and washed down her breakfast.
"What time?"
"About noon, usually," she told him, and Damon nodded.
"Okay, I'll pick you up today. We can go eat somewhere, and we can talk about last night."
She nodded. It wasn't a bad plan.
"Works for me," she agreed, moving to pull her car keys from her purse, "But I really need to get going."
Damon nodded, "I understand."
She walked to the door with him, then hesitated.
"So…were you just wanting to hang out here or…"
Damon glanced around, "I'm going to finish cleaning up my mess in the kitchen, but then I'll probably head back to Mom's."
Elena crooked her head, "You really don't have to clean the kitchen…I'll get it later when-"
"I want to," he insisted, "Besides, you need to get going. I'll be sure to lock the house when I leave."
Elena sighed, "Yeah, you're right…okay."
He smiled, "Have a good day at work, then."
She opened the door, smirking, and made her way to her car.
But before pulling out, she glanced back at her porch.
Damon stood there, waving, and for the first time, she was really looking forward to lunch.
So this chapter was a big part of the Chris/Damon relationship!
It's still going to take some building, so don't expect anything to just fall perfectly into place, yet. lol
I really had fun writing this one though, and I can't wait to hear your opinions!
Do you think Chris will grow to trust Damon?
Will Elena give Damon a second chance?
What should Delena talk about at their "lunch"?
Review!