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 6
"Hello?" Elena's voice was soft, clouded with drowsiness, as she held her phone to her ear.
"Hey, Elena. It's Ric."
"Ric? What's up? What time is it?" Alaric could hear her shuffling through the phone as she shifted to sit up on her bed.
"I know it's early, but I need your help with something." Alaric's eyes fell to rest on Damon.
"Sure, Alaric. What's going on?" Elena's voice became clear as she forced herself up, already preparing for whatever her friend may ask of her.
"I need you to bring some blood bags over to the loft." The teacher said seriously.
"Bring what? Blood bags?" the girl's tone had sharpened with worry. "Why?"
The girl allowed a pause, "Alaric what's happening?"
"Damon's hurt. Don't worry, I have him here with me, but he needs blood. I can't leave him alone right now."
Elena's mind was racing, "I'm on my way over." The girl was already pulling on a pair of jeans. "I don't have any blood at my house, but there is some in your apartment."
Alaric frowned, preparing to speak, but Elena was quicker.
"Damon put a cooler in your pantry a while back." Elena crept past Jeremy's room, keys in hand.
"Are you sure?" Alaric asked, but the man was already moving toward the pantry.
Throwing the light switch upward, the teacher looked around the walk-in pantry, lined with painted white wooden shelves, each as empty as any. Alaric could scarcely remember the last time he'd stocked this place, rather with a lifestyle like his, such gestures of normality were pitifully rare.
"I don't see anyth-" Alaric stopped as he spotted a small blue cooler shoved into the far corner of the little room. In a single stride, the teacher was crouched beside it, running his hands over the smooth white lid in his search for the handle.
Elena took his silence as confirmation that he'd located the cooler. "I'm on my way. I'll see you soon." she said when her foot was out the door.
"We'll be waiting." Alaric's tone was idle as his focus was instead on the stock of blood before him.
He might have wondered when Damon had had the opportunity to sneak the cooler into his pantry, let alone periodically fill it with ice, but with the vampire still unconscious and bleeding on his couch, Alaric only made a note to consider it later. Right now, he needed to help his friend.
Alaric made his way back over to Damon, the cooler heavy in his left hand, tilting his shoulders downward to accommodate its weight. Setting it between his ankles, Alaric, once more, sat down on the coffee table beside Damon before tearing the first bag open so that the tube at the top stuck up like a straw.
"Come on, Damon." Alaric gently slid his forearm under Damon's back, supporting his head with the crook of his arm as he held the bag to the vampire's lips. Even at the scent of the blood, which despite his unconscious state Damon could undoubtedly detect, the vampire did not rouse, instead lying limply in the teacher's arms.
"Come on," Alaric repeated, splashing the tip of Damon's tongue with the blood as he gently squeezed the red fluid into his mouth.
The look of the dark veins appearing under the injured vampire's eyes came as a relief to Alaric as he continued to feed Damon. He had gotten two bags worth of blood into him before Damon's blue eyes flashed open to meet him. At the sight of them, the teacher smiled, his hands, sticky with blood spilled, falling limply to his lap.
"Ric?" Damon surveyed his surroundings as he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. He'd been here for sure, this much he knew. Though, in his disorientation, he did not recognize at first where he was and he looked to the teacher for confirmation.
"Relax, Damon. You're in my apartment."
Suddenly the memory of the night's events came rushing back to Damon. Entering the Lockwood cellar, finding the cave, the pain of the stakes burying into his abdomen, watching Mason disappear before he could help. The last thing the vampire could clearly recall was fumbling with his phone in the dark as he tried desperately to contact someone. Anyone that could have come to help him. Damon's eyes, still glazed over, settled upon Alaric's face. The teacher watched him with a forehead creased in concern. The vampire tilted upward the corners of his lips into what he could muster of a smile, something of a 'thank you' to the teacher for his aid. As it seemed, Alaric understood, and nodded as he picked up another blood bag.
"Here, drink this." The teacher yawned as he watched the vampire tear open the bag with shaky hands.
"I see you found my cooler." Damon said between sips.
Alaric rolled his eyes. "How did you even sneak that in there?"
Damon shrugged, taking a long, deep draught before answering. "It's only fair. You keep your vampire murder weapons in my car, I keep blood in your pantry."
Alaric sighed, getting up. "I guess that's fair."
Damon finished off the blood bag before he tossed the empty plastic to the floor, watching Alaric closely as he moved from his seat next to him. The vampire swallowed slowly. He felt sick, but the pain from his torso was getting to be unbearable, and the vampire knew all too well that blood alone could banish it. Shifting as much as he dared, Damon looked down at his body, taking a hand to the bleeding holes in his abdomen. He hissed at the contact.
"That's not good." The vampire mumbled.
"Why aren't those healing?" Alaric asked, returning with a roll of bandages, a pair of scissors, and a bowl of soapy water with a small white rag floating in its midst.
Damon eyed him, "Vervain." The vampire bit out. "There was vervain on the stakes."
The teacher nodded as he took a seat on the table once more, "Well, you're getting blood all over my couch."
The vampire lifted his brow, glancing down once at the soiled cushions before allowing his head to fall back on the arm of the couch. "You need new furniture anyway. I feel like I'm in a funeral home."
"What do you know about funeral homes? You're a vampire."
"I have been around for a long time. I have had to watch a lot of people die, Ric."
"Yeah? How many of those were your own victims?" Alaric raised his eyebrows.
"More than I'd care to admit." Damon smirked.
"I'm sure." Alaric said, rising once again to make his way to the sink.
"Would you sit still? You're making my head spin." Damon groaned, but the teacher ignored him.
For, by the time Alaric had turned on the sink to wash the blood from his hands, there had come a knock from the door.
"Elena's here." The teacher said, suppressing a snort at the comical display of surprise that came upon the vampire's face.
A/N: We are nearing our destination, dear reader. Your reviews, follows, and favorites have been most pleasing. As always however, my greed compels me to request more. Honor our deal, reader, and you shall have more of the chapters you seek.
