Try {One | Alaric Saltzman}

As I Lay Dying

Abigail and Alaric passed Jenna's favorite bottle of tequila back and forth. They didn't know how long it had been since Elena and Jeremy left for the Movie in the Square, but half of the bottle was already gone. Their stories became harder to understand as their words slurred and the room spun, but the only thing that managed to cut Alaric off mid-story was the incessant ringing of one of their phones.

"Sorry," he sighed. "You've reached somebody who's currently not operating."

"I need both of you to get over here," Stefan said. "Now."

"Well..." Abigail took another drink. "You must have us confused with some other couple because we are currently drinking away the fact that Jenna was sacrificed on an altar of blood."

Void of emotion, he said, "Damon's dying. Tyler Lockwood bit him."

Damon was examining his werewolf bite as they approached his cell. It was days old, already worse than Rose's was the night she died. Which meant they didn't have much time.

Alaric placed his daylight ring next to the glass on the windowsill. "That looks bad."

"It feels worse. My subconscious is haunting me." He rolled his shirt down. "Please tell me you have something for that."

He held up a bottle of scotch from the 40s that they found tucked away in his room. "Double shot."

Slipping his ring on with a forced laughed, he asked, "So, my brother sent you two for suicide watch?"

Abigail was stuck to the wall, terrified that Damon would be dead if Stefan couldn't find a way to get the cure from Klaus. He may have done things, horrible things, but he had proven who he really was. And, now, staring through the barred window of the cell, she knew that he had become one of her best friends.

"He's doing what he always does, trying to right the wrongs of the past." He doubled over in pain. "You should want me dead. I'm the reason Jenna got killed."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't blame you for Jenna."

"Oh, sure you do." He took a drink from the bottle, turning to Alaric. "Let's not forget I turned your wife into a vampire. You must really hate me for that one."

"Okay, give me your glass." Alaric stepped toward the door. "None of us are drunk enough for this conversation."

Damon reached through the bars, grabbing him by the neck. "Kill me. Please."

"Screw you."

He injected him with vervain, sending him to the floor.

"Elena?"

"Elena's not here, Damon."

It didn't take long for Damon's body to process the vervain, but he was so weak from the werewolf venom that he could barely pull himself back onto the cot.

"I need blood," he groaned. "I need blood."

Moving slowly down the row of cells, she turned her eyes from Alaric to the floor. The fridge was just around the corner and past the stairs, stocked completely with what would only help for so long. Her shoes were dirty, it seemed most of them were, but the way they were covered in dirt from the days since Klaus' arrival made them seem like they had been worn for months on end.

She opened the fridge, the blood in the bags easier to look at than they ever had been as she searched for what Damon had once mentioned as his favorite kind. The labels were easy read, and, even though it shouldn't have surprised her, everything was organized as she imagined it had been at the hospital. Her shaking hands took two bags as she imagined Jenna doing the same thing, and that was when she felt a tear fall.