Damon dipped the end of his quill into the pot of ink, a distant look in his aquamarine eyes.

He removed the quill from the pot before bringing the piece of writing equipment over to the open plan book that was resting on the desktop before him.

A wave of gut wrenching, teeth grinding guilt over came him once again and he wondered how long it would take for it to disappear this time.

The quill remained levitated above the notebook; the vampire unable to write what he knew was inevitable.

A thick drop of onyx coloured ink fell from the tip of the feather quill to blot onto the paper beneath it. The slightly dirtied pages of white soaked up the ink immediately, the brunette watched in mild disinterest as the circular disc of ink expanded.

Repeating the tiresome action of dipping the quill into the ink once again the vampire removed it before writing on the paper as quickly as he could so as to not hesitate.

It was wrong that he had to write the name at all especially in this book.

Not only had he written it once though- no this was the second time he was writing this particular person's name except now it hurt so damn much. The ink couldn't be erased and even though he could easily destroy the book the memory would forever be engraved into his brain - searing his thoughts and tainting the only piece of good everyone still believed he had within him despite all the terrible things he had done.

Damon exhaled breathily as he rested the old fashioned pen against the pot of ink.

With hooded eyes he stared at the name that had become too repetitive in his little black book.

Five vowels.

Nine consonants.

Fourteen letters.

Alaric Saltzman.

/

The night air was cold and bitter as it always was around this time of year, however Alaric refused to wear any semblance of warm clothing and that included hats gloves and hooded bear hats although he had been told he looked deliciously adorable in them.

Instead the teacher wore a fitting grey top and dark denim jeans which in all honesty should have been thrown away a long time ago. The elastic in the hem was loosening and the end of his jeans had begun to fray however Alaric couldn't bring himself to part with them.

He supposed he was just old fashioned that way, once he'd grown attached to something he found it hard to let go. Old fashioned or simply too lazy to go buy a new pair - either way his less than perfect jeans were the last thing on the teachers mind.

Shooting Stefan Salvatore with enough vervain to physically wound the vampire was his current mission.

Alaric briefly wondered if his life would ever be normal and he hoped to god it wouldn't because if he wasn't killing vampires or drinking or stopping some kind of ritual from taking place what else was there? What else was Alaric Saltzman beside the avidly drunk, history teacher / mediocre vampire hunter.

In all honesty he was a terrible vampire hunter seeing as he couldn't kill the one vampire that had successfully managed to kill him twice now.

Alaric scowled, his hand instinctively tightening around his makeshift vervain shooter as unpleasant memories were suddenly remembered.

Being stabbed in the lungs by his own weapon.

The first time had been a foolish act on his part and to this very day Alaric will never admit that he knew he didn't stand a chance against Damon but adrenaline rushes plus years of unrequited love from your supposed wife and a lifetime of drinking can make you believe you're able to do anything. Be anything.

He'd acted brashly and there for been punished accordingly.

He'd died and learnt his lesson... sort of.

He better understood the abilities vampires had, therefore studied them in more depth - even created a spider chart. Who said those five years at university studying History went to waste.

The teacher remembered every sensation from that night - mostly the oddness of it all.

When one's pierced in the lung with a splintered wooden dagger one would think that their stomach would burn and their lung would ache but no Alaric's heart did. He was sure the immense pressure it was under was really the reason he died.

Honestly how much heartache could a guy take?

Bodily wounds didn't matter all that much to him anymore, they hurt but they healed – slowly but surely.

But emotional pain that haunted him, in his dreams and in his moments of wakefulness there was no escape, which is why the brunette wondered why he allowed himself to be caught up in these fucked up situations in which he knew he would be hurt again.

He would be the epitome of the word masochist if he allowed himself to believe in such things.

Alaric peeked out from behind the tree he was - to his knowledge- successfully hidden behind.

The teacher spared a glance at Damon before quietly admiring the way the light from the fire reflected off of his face, shadowing it and yet accentuating it at the same time. For example his eyes seemed darkened and his jaw more angular than usual, yet his skin seemed pale and his cheeks rose kissen.

Rick's free hand went to gently cradle the front of his neck.

Snap.

The second time Damon had killed him.

He remembers that too.

The death was too quick for him to feel anything more than the break that was his fragile bones.

But when he awoke well that was an entirely different story.

The first thing that registered was the memories.

No one ever asked him what it was like to be brought back and in all honestly even if they did Alaric would never tell them the entire truth.

Every time he died time would stop, his body would feel warm and for a few blissful moments he'd forget entirely who he was and what he'd been through.

Then he'd feel that dreadful heart sinking pull - an invisible thread to reality. It would pull him back with no remorse and like gravity to the earth he'd plunge back down again into his body - into his fucked up life.

Each time he died his memories would fade, so every time he was brought back again he'd experience them - experience Damon feeding on his wife, his years of bitter emotions and ill intentions, Klaus taking over his body, Jenna dying. Everything. All of his memories would come rushing back to him along with everything he felt at that time so no one could blame him for being slightly pissed when he awoke especially when the fucker who killed him was wafting a drink before his nose - especially the one that guarantees him a hangover the next day.

Alaric twitches gently as he forces himself to stay alert; it is at this time that his eyes move over to where Elena was and he curses loudly because she's gone and he has no idea in which direction she went.

He quickly remembers their plan to meet by the bleachers and no matter how damn crazy Stefan is acting at the moment Rick knows Elena will be able to get the vampire there with ease.

He takes a quick look around and cannot help the widening of his eyes when he see's Damon sitting there almost casually with a wooden stake through his stomach. Alaric almost wants to gloat except all he does is roll his eyes and thinks 'You're so damn hopeless Damon Salvatore' before going to help his friend out.

From months and months of practice Rick stealthily makes his way through the students and wonders what kind of shit their on in order to miss the guy with a piece of wood through his chest, either way he'd glad for their distraction.

The teacher places his vervain shooter into his backpack and without so much as a word of warning he grabs Damon from behind and drags the vampire behind a nearby tree where there unseen.

Damon struggles for a moment before he recognises the familiar work toughened pads of Rick's fingers against his arms.

He allows himself to be sat up against a tree, the vampire stares at Rick as he reaches behind him takes off his backpack, opens it removes a blood bag and hands it to Damon - all without making eye contact with the vampire.

Wow he must be really mad.

Still.

Damon's mouth eagerly latches onto the bag because he knows what will come next. He winces before growling around the bag as Alaric pulls the stick out of his stomach, the slow pull on his inner intestines and muscle tissue is hell but Damon's strong and he's lived through much worse.

Rick's nose scrunches distastefully at the blood and marshmallow stained stick.

"Might wanna get yourself checked out after having this inside you." Rick says in an almost condescending bored tone as he throws the stick away.

"Yeah." Damon grunts before a sarcastic quip immediately enters his brain, what can he say he's naturally gifted in that department – as well as many others.

"That marshmallow will go straight to my thighs."

The Salvatore brother smirks before throwing the bag as far as he can throw it – vampire strength and all. It was a good thing Rick brought the blood although he doesn't receive praise for it he knows he won't so he's not disappointed.

"Actually I was talking about Rebecca's saliva, after having it lathered over god knows what before going on that stick then into your stomach – just my opinion but I don't think that's too healthy, the last thing you want is an infection I hear vampire S.T.D's are a bitch."

Apparently Damon's not the only one who's gifted in the art of sarcastic comments.

Damon averts his eyes and smiles despite himself, a small pull at his lips that reveal his dimples before he looks up again to see Alaric walking away.

The vampire shoots up from the ground before calling after the other.

"I still have a job to do, unlike some people I can't fail at mine."

Damon clenches his jaw as a venomous reply rests on the tip of his tongue. He swallows the acidic comment before turning away.

/

Alaric sinks to the tiled flooring of the shower with a smile on his face. He's thoroughly exhausted but that move Elena just pulled on Stefan was way too gratifying to not appreciate. After strenuous amounts of training time she'd finally learnt how to apply the right amount of pressure in order to release the stakes.

The brunette allows his head to loll forward allowing the water to cascade down his hair and neck line.

He's at his apartment tonight, he's finally accepted the fact that the Gilbert's want and need him around yet he does still need his own space and sometimes it's nice to be able to go back to something that's solely his.

Rick exit's the shower to find... no clean clothes. Great. He huffs before languidly flinging the discarded ones on the floor around occasionally sniffing them to see if there suitable to wear or not.

He pauses when he comes across a navy short sleeved top. Along the chest in big bold white letters are the words 'Ramones' the teacher instantly recognises it as Damon's. Whether his clothing choices were scarce or not Rick found himself wanting to wear it. Abandoning the towel around his waist he slowly slips the t-shirt on before sliding into a pair of loose grey tracksuit bottoms.

The brunette sinks down onto his sofa a semi-warm beer in hand as he blankly stares at the wall.

His eyes are distant but his brain is on overdrive. He can't decipher half his thoughts the only well rounded thing he can make out of all the confusion in his head is Damon. Damon. Damon.

The last time they had been together – intimately- Alaric blushes at the thought – was two days before the vampire broke his neck.

No one knows of course and Alaric isn't entirely sure how it happened but it's uncomplicated and he revels in the fact that when Damon's with him, touching him, penetrating him he feels something.

And it's nice to feel something beyond emptiness and drunk induced numbness.

He knows he shouldn't still be mad at Damon for killing him but he can't help it, by all means they don't have a responsibility to each other as lovers because that's not something that they are. But friends, yes their friends at least Alaric thought so but how many times can you continually hurt someone before they give up on you entirely. Apparently a lot because Damon had not only hurt Alaric but killed him twice and still the teacher was willing to allow the vampire back into his life.

Rick's not going to forgive him, not for a long time but he does crave the other's company. It's only natural - a physical and emotional instinct that comes with the territory of sleeping with somebody.

A knock to his apartment door startles Rick, he jumps slightly before he calms down forcing his heartbeat to slow before he carefully approaches the door.

He looks through the peep hole and sees' blackness. He realises someone's got their thumb pressed against the looking glass on the other side and doesn't need to guess twice in order to know who it is.

The teacher exhales breathily through his nose before resting his forehead against the door, allowing his arms to hang limply by his sides, the beer bottle clenched between his fingers.

He hears a slight bump on the other side of the door and he swallows hard because it feels like his foreheads touching Damon's, like the door isn't actually there.

The teacher closes his eyes before unconsciously pressing his head against the door almost harshly.

"I know you're there. I can hear you breathing." Damon voices softly.

Alaric doesn't reply.

"C'mon Rick your crazy neighbour is staring at me again."

Alaric hears said crazy neighbour squealing angrily before complaining about Alaric's apparent promiscuous ways.

"You're always in and out of that apartment doing things and god forbid if you did it quietly for once!"

The teacher breathes a laugh against the door before pressing his free hand against it.

"Blah...blah...blah you know you ought to get laid... it'll take away all that pent up frustration." The turquoise eyed vampire happily recommends before quiet words are whispered, words Rick can't make out but he's sure Damon's compelling the women because less than a minute later all is quiet.

Another dull thump against the door and Rick's sure he can feel Damon's hand ghosting against his.

"I just want to give you something." Damon whispers against the door.

"You don't even have to let me in, give me a break here I could have knocked the damn door down ages ago but I haven't. "

Alaric being the intellect he is reviewed that and realised the vampire was indeed correct he could have knocked down the door and forced Alaric to listen to him but he hasn't.

The teacher stepped back, hesitated then rolled his eyes at his own behaviour. He wasn't some nervous teenager for Christ's sakes he was a full grown man who had seen the kind of things people's nightmares couldn't possibly think up.

He opened the door, leaving it on the chain so it was slightly ajar.

Damon sighed at this however made no other comment.

He thrust a thick black book into Alaric's hands before turning to walk away.

Fumbling with the beer, book and door Alaric managed to shift both objects into one arm before flinging the door open.

"What is it?" He asked the retreating figure.

Without turning around Damon answered.

"A book of confessions."

And with that he sped off leaving no time for Alaric to question him further.

/

Alaric stared at the book resting on his oak coffee table.

It was leather bound and thick - at least four hundred plus pages, Alaric briefly wondered if it was a diary something similar to Stefan's a log of Damon's day to day life.

Rick could pretty much sum the vampire's life up without reading it,

Obsess over Katherine for a substantial amount of time.

Hate my brother.

Obsess over Elena for a substantial amount of time.

Kill my friends – repeatedly.

Rick sighed before deciding he'd need some more alcohol if he was going to dig into the inner psyche of a mentally unstable vampire.

With sufficient amounts of the burning amber liquid that is scotch running through his system Alaric pulled his knees toward his chest, resting the book against his thighs as he opened it.

The first thing he registered was that Damon actually had really nice handwriting.

Italic. Neat. Calculating.

Damon never gave anything away – he kept his words masked as well as he did his face.

A look of confusion crossed the teachers face as he read the first line in the book.

September 1st 1864 – Elizabeth Roburn – Lake House – drained

September 2nd 1864- James Burrows – Alleyway -drained

September 3rd 1864- Lacey Inswine- Graveyard – broken arm - drained

Alaric flicked through the pages hastily almost ripping the fragile beaten pages of the book.

A thick lump of dread forced its way into his throat when he discovered what the book was.

Febuary 14th 1885- Stuart Mcklenly – ripped spleen- drained

Febuary 14th 1885- Juard Houston – broken arm – bruised ribs - drained

Febuary 14th 1885- Richard Ascott – fed- broken hip – drained

He turned more pages.

April 2nd 1925 – Kitty Summerfield- fucked her- drained her

April 25th 1925- Jamie Facer – broken nose-dislocated knee-drained

Alaric began panting viscously turning the pages until he was halfway through the book. The other half was empty, the pages still blank.

This was a log of all of Damon's killings from his first to his most recent.

13th October 2011- Alaric Saltzman- Broken neck- Lockwood Residence

"What the fuck." Alaric whispered staring at his name written in those perfectly sized italics.

This was just too weird.

Rick couldn't come to any other conclusion than the fact that the vampire was seriously idiotic and mentally insane.

He said in Stefan's ripper day's that the vampire had logged his killings, a type of trophy he could look back upon, Damon himself called that sadistic behaviour yet he had done the exact same thing – had even gone to the trouble of writing exactly how and where he had stricken down his victims.

Is this wasn't a slap in the face Alaric didn't know what was.

Or a stake to the lung take your pick.

The teacher was getting ready to drown himself in even more scotch when he noticed the scrawled writing beneath his name.

He frowned before looking at the previous pages - nobody else had anything written beneath their names.

Throughout the entire book Damon's writing had been the same, except for the passage beneath Alaric's name – that section was scruffy almost as if the vampire had all these thoughts he wanted to spill out before he forgot how to phrase them.

Rick downed another shot, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth before hesitantly returning to his earlier ministrations.

He instantly recognised the haphazard letters.

It was a prayer.

Not just one though it was a mix between two - a prayer or forgiveness and a prayer for loneliness.

Everything that was Damon.

O God,
I need to feel that I have forgiveness from You.

So often my good intentions do not become what I want them to be,

and so often the good I want to do, I don't do.

It is hard to face up to the wrong that is in my life.

When I feel Your forgiveness, I feel clean and good inside and so free to be what You want me to be.

Help me feel this goodness, and strengthen me to forgive those who have wronged me.

I turn to You as my source of strength when I feel so alone.

Still, I find my feelings difficult to bear.

Help me to overcome my isolation and to reach out to others once again.

Hear my prayer, let my cry for help.

Do not hide your face from me when I am in distress.

Turn your ear to me; When I call, answer me quickly.

Do not turn away from me.

The brunette teacher released a shaky breath.

If anything could have been more Damon he would be truly surprised.

The vampire never expressed emotion let alone wrote it down it provided solid evidence of his guilt -of his weakness.

This wasn't a book to tally and reminisce happily on his previous kills, it was a reminder of the unforgivable sins he had committed.

All of a sudden Rick felt guilty for pushing the other man away and he wanted to scream because he shouldn't feel guilty. Damon was the one who killed him; he should be the one searching and begging for retribution and forgiveness.

Rick should still be angry and he is but that didn't stop him from dialling the vampire's number.

No words were spoken from either man when Damon answered his phone.

He already knew.

He hung up after a minute of silence and within ten he was at the teacher's apartment.

/

He let himself in because he already knew that's what Alaric wanted.

Damon silently and carefully shut the door behind him, towed off his boots and jacket before leaving them by the front door.

With having an open plan apartment it wasn't difficult to find the other man, Rick was sitting cross legged on his bed, the book closed and rested against his chest.

Damon took the same position on the bed opposite him before quirking an eyebrow.

"The top suits you." Damon commented.

Alaric remained silent.

He opened the book to the page that was branded with his name before pressing it into Damon's lap.

"I thought you didn't believe in god anymore." Alaric whispered.

"I don't." Was the mumbled reply.

"That's funny because I'm sure prayer counts as a sign of faith." Rick retaliated statistically.

They fell silent again as Alaric watched Damon's fingers skim over his name.

"I believe in you."

"What." Rick asked loudly only to slightly bow his head in embarrassment. Damon had practically whispered his words and Alaric felt as if he had just ruined a tender moment by speaking loudly.

Damon sighed before rolling his eyes and Rick realised that even in the most complex of situations Damon could never truly be comfortable and forthcoming. The vampire had to realise that not everyone was out to hurt him, especially not Rick.

"I stopped believing in god a long time ago but you, you I believe in. The prayer was an askance of forgiveness from me to you."

"I can't forgive you." Alaric replied immediately because he couldn't lie to Damon.

That's not how they worked.

Although he excepted the answer Damon still tensed, because he didn't wince or twitch, he had spent countless decades perfecting his bodies reactions to easily fluctuate to something like that.

"Not yet." The middle aged male was quick to add.

Damon said nothing.

Rick shifted to his knees before removing the book from the vampires lap; he gently closed it before setting it on his bedside cabinet.

His hand's rested on Damon's shoulders as he leant forward in order to kiss the other man.

It had been a week since they'd last been together and the small but persistent pressure on his lips seemed familiar and alien at the same time.

Damon uncurled himself from his lotus position on the bed before looping a muscular arm around Rick's waist.

With some assistance from Damon, Rick shifted onto his back allowing the vampire to nestle between his legs.

Their soft lazy kisses continued and Alaric hummed softly as Damon's lips travelled down his neck.

The alcohol was warming his system as were the slow deliberate touches to his stomach.

Alaric's breathe hitched as Damon's thumb dipped into his bellybutton before the vampires fingers feathered over the waistband of his jogging bottoms.

Rick's or rather Damon's top was pushed up a fraction as Damon's head moved down.

Rick's hands carded through Damon's hair where he massaged the scalp, slowly moving the vampires head exactly where he wanted it.

Rick gently tugged at thick ebony locks causing Damon to stop what he was doing in favour of travelling back up Rick's body.

Alaric wanted to laugh because Damon's hair was so messy and tousled. He looked like he'd just been thoroughly fucked.

"What?" Damon mumbled embarrassedly, it was then that Rick realised he had started to chuckle.

Damn scotch.

The man soon calmed himself before remembering why he had demanded the others attention.

"No fore-play." He whispered, and with that Damon set to work, removing Rick's and his clothing in record time.

Before his deft fingers could set to work he gave himself a moment to appreciate not only the body but the man before him. Everything about him.

His sarcastic puns, his quick witted answers, the intellect that far surpasses his own, his flexibility – oh hush there had to be more than just his brains to keep Damon interested.

It was all so familiar by now Rick's body moved before his brain registered it.

With a sufficient amount of lube coating his fingers Damon lowered his hand as Rick raised his hips.

There was no subtle prodding; Damon's fingers entered him as the vampire's mouth covered his. Rick released a soft noise that was lost in his throat.

Alaric broke away from the kiss in favour of panting against Damon's face, breaths sticky and hot.

Alaric made a sound similar to a growl before wrapping his fingers around Damon's wrist – the one that was currently preoccupied with a different part of Alaric.

Rick forced the other man's fingers deeper within himself before his panting increased.

"I...said...no foreplay...dammit."

"Ever the impatient one." Damon laughed, Rick didn't protest because it was true, especially now.

Rick's trembling fingers ghosted up Damon's arms before he gripped onto the vampires bulging triceps.

Alaric shut his eyes when he saw Damon watching him, it was so damn embarrassing when the vampire did that –especially in a situation such as this when he was a sweaty panting writhing mess of sexual hormones.

Damon added a third finger before forcefully brushing against the oh so holy gland that is the prostate.

Rick's eyes shot open and he screamed.

One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth as the other gripped and twisted at Damon's hair so hard the vampire snarled before pulling his head away.

"Muffling your voice... what a thoughtful neighbour."

"You're such a sarcastic prick."

An indulgent chuckle was Rick's only reply.

Damon slowly removed his fingers before lathering his cock in lube, wrapping one of Alaric's legs around his waist whiles the other limb was hooked and pushed upward by the inside of Damon's elbow. Lining himself up with Rick's entrance he waited for the inevitable to happen.

Alaric closed his eyes like he usually did and Damon swallowed his request for the man to open them as he buried himself inside the other.

A choked groan slipped through Rick's parted lips before he bit into Damon's shoulder.

The vampire set a slow, rough pace. His hips fluid in their dipping movements as Rick's breathy noises spurred him on.

Alaric slowly opened his eyes, leaving them heavy setted and half lidded as he stared up at Damon and for the first time since they'd been together like this they looked at each other.

Damon's thrusts quickened in pace as his forearms rested on either side of Alaric's face.

He leant down kissing the man below him briefly before moving back enough to see the other man's face.

"Keep your eyes open." Although it was spoken softly it was a command.

Rick obeyed.

The slick tip of Damon's cock brushed against Rick's prostate and he was so ready for his orgasm it was beyond funny.

"What the fuck." The teacher managed to grouch albeit pathetically as Damon gripped the base of his cock preventing him from reaching orgasm.

"Not yet...stay with me..." Damon panted and the brunette wanted to come right there and then.

He pushed his body up against Damon's and even though the vampire could force the man to stay in the position he was in he relented moving backward until he sat upright with Alaric straddling his waist.

The teacher raised himself up before plunging down onto Damon's cock, hips setting a quick brutal pace up and down pace.

He repeated the action, his nails scratching along the vampires shoulders creating deep red crescent marks that bled heavily only to heal moments later.

Damon's hands gripped at Alaric's thighs before pulling them apart consequently forcing the man to take more of Damon in at a much deeper angle.

Alaric bit his lip to quieten the slight grunt of pain the action caused but the vampire had already seen it, had already felt the teacher's heartbeat quicken at the strain.

Damon rubbed his thumbs in quick circles on Alaric's upper thighs in an attempt to soothe him and to his surprise it worked.

Alaric wrapped his arms around Damon's shoulders before sucking on Damon's neck and moaning right into the vampire's ear, where every single sound wave resonated through his eardrums and drove him to the point of no return.

Complete and utter bliss.

Alaric's hands pulled at Damon's hair as his hips desperately rolled forward, riding out his orgasm.

Rick's entire body fell limp against Damon, his arms losing their death grip on his hair to languidly rest against the other's shoulders.

Damon curved his head inward to softly kiss Alaric's pulse point which was currently vibrating against his sweat soaked skin.

Damon brought them down onto the bed before pulling out, using a corner of the bed sheets to wipe away the come coating their chests.

"I'm tired." Alaric admitted as if his half lidded eyes and slowing heartbeat weren't indication enough.

"Rest." Damon answered.

The vampire ensured all doors and windows were locked before returning to the bed to find Alaric resting on his side, the thin white blankets pooled around his waist and the pillow beside him plumped up – just the way Damon likes it.

How Alaric is aware of how Damon likes his pillows fluffed is a thought that's easily discarded as the vampire climbs into bed, himself and Rick facing one another.

A gratifyingly peaceful silence ensues before Alaric sleepily speaks.

"Even though my heart is heavy with grief, I'm thankful that you know my pain and sorrow, your word says 'as a mother comforts her child, you comfort us.' I ask that you be my comfort today. Help me to sense your presence and your peace. "

Damon gazed at the peaceful face before him.

"I didn't know you believed in god." Damon affirmed allowing his eyes to slip shut.

"I don't...I believe in you."

(AN) Wow... okay so this is my first one shot and my first VPD story, I've recently become utterly addicted to this pairing and one day this random little story popped into my head. I literally got home from work today and didn't get off of my computer until it was done haha. It's kind of a quick one so if there are several spelling mistakes then my apologises.

Also for the life of me I cannot remember when Damon was changed into a vampire so I kind of made most of the dates up.

Anywho this pairing is just so rare so I wanted others to feel some Dalaric love.

Hope you liked it.

Dolorous Doll x