Disclaimer: Nothing is owned, only borrowed.
Summary: Set after 3x07. The ghosts from the other side have returned to Mystic Falls and desperate to find a means of killing Klaus to free Stefan from his compulsion, Damon is eager to follow deceased werewolf Mason into the Lockwood Cellar. However, when trouble inevitably finds him, Damon is left with no choice but to ask for help from the people he can only hope still care about him.
Hurt!Damon. Delena if you squint. Damon and Alaric friendship.
Warnings: Moderately graphic description of injury.
Chapter 2
The dial tones seemed even slower than usual to Alaric, who sat stiffly on his couch, phone pressed to his ear.
"I swear to God, this had better be good."
The teacher twisted his free hand, running his thumb over his ring while he waited for an answer. He studied it, the dark color of the gem intricately engraved and smoothly polished so it glinted, catching the light with every move he made.
When the dial tones ceased at last, Alaric almost believed that he'd been sent to voicemail, though when the familiar automated instructions to leave a message never came, the teacher squinted, confused. Bringing the phone away from his ear, he saw the stopwatch, seconds increasing to signify that the call had indeed gone through.
"Damon?"
Alaric strained, listening for a sound from the other end. A part of him believed that the call had somehow been disconnected, though something simply didn't feel right. For, it was not completely silent on Damon's end as it should have been had that been the case. It was almost as if he could hear something, someone's labored breath.
"Damon?" Alaric asked again, louder now, stifled urgency creeping into his voice.
The teacher was on his feet now, pressing his phone roughly into his ear as if it would bring him some form of confirmation that he was wrong, and everything was okay after all.
"…Ric?"
The teacher's stomach dropped at the strain in the vampire's voice.
"Damon? What's going on?"
A pause, Alaric listened closely to hushed moans only barely received.
"Need help… please…"
Not even a shadow of a doubt remained in Alaric's mind that something was indeed amiss, and with his realization he wasted no time in grabbing his coat and heading to his car with keys ready in his hand.
"Just hold on. Are you still at the Lockwood Cellar?"
Alaric balanced his cell on his shoulder as he started the car.
"Yes." Damon's tone was ragged, and had Alaric had the bearings to process it, he might have winced at the sound.
"Don't worry buddy, I'm on my way. Just hang on."
And with that Alaric was tearing down the road, speeding with reckless abandon. For, he had but one thing on his mind, a single task at hand: get to Damon.
A/N: Ah, my dear reader. I see you are undeterred, and for this I must ask you, is it courage or foolishness that keeps you here? Perhaps both? Answer only if you dare, for I am but a humble author with a bargain to keep. Follow me if you still wish it, to where my lair awaits. For your follows and favorites and reviews I have more chapters for you. Grant me these that which I seek, and I can promise that they shall be yours.
