Alaric/Stefan PLEASE NO ONE SHIPS IT BUT Me
YOU ARE RIGHT. NO ONE SHIPS IT. LOL. But I shipped it for about two minutes when Stefan was beating Alaric up, so here, have a this.
Stefan clutched at the front of Alaricās shirt, and hit him again, again, until he felt Alaricās lip split, and then he couldnāt do it any more, because by then what he wanted was to tear into Alaricās throat with his teeth and drink until there was nothing left of his kind human friend. He backed away fast, leaning against the other wall of the basement, and he said, āI canāt do this.ā
āYou have to do this. It has to think youāre prepared to kill me.ā
And he was, that was exactly the problem. Stefan shook his head.
āThen he wins,ā Alaric said, and slouched onto the cot. āYouāll never get the stake, and Iāll be a hostage in here forever.ā
āI canāt do it,ā Stefan said.
They were silent a good long time. And then Alaric gave the saddest laugh Stefan thought he had ever heard come from anyone but himself. āYāknow, I think I know this script,ā he said. āI think Iām dead, one way or another.ā
Stefan shook his head. Because Damon had never, never been happy, and he was happy now, and Stefan wanted that. Almost without thinking, he licked Alaricās blood away from his knuckles.
āDamon canāt do this,ā Alaric said. āI know what youāre thinking. You wanna wait ātil he gets back from Denver, make him do it. He canāt. This thing in meā¦ knows he canāt.ā
Stefan said nothing, and only let himself taste Alaricās blood in his mouth, and then he stood again, and Alaric did as well.
Summoning his resolve, he flew at Alaric, threw him against the wall, and twice, three times, careful not to punch his way into Alaricās relatively fragile skull, he punched him. The crunch was sickening each time.
āMean it,ā Alaric slurred.
A fourth, and Alaric slumped almost to the ground. Stefan didnāt run this time. He crouched, feelings his features shift over Alaricās shattered face, the smell of the blood so tempting, and he realized this was one of the few chances in life heād ever get to do the hardest thing, the right thing, for the right reason. Alaricās head rolled on his neck, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. Still he gave Stefan an almost reassuring nod.
āDo it,ā he said. Stefan pulled his fist back.
Was Alaric right? Would he not survive the story?
Stefan paused. āYouāll survive,ā he promised. āWhatever it takes. Elena needs you. Jeremy needs you. Damonā¦ā Stefan didnāt even finish that thought and he didnāt want to finish that thought and no one could make him. Alaricās eyes said he didnāt believe Stefan at all, but he sort of nodded again.
His lip was bleeding freely.
Stefan would never tell anyone about it, and heād deny it if anyone asked, but the urge became overwhelming, and he leaned, right up close to Alaricās face. At first, he darted a tongue out to swipe over the split bottom lip, clearing away blood that smelled impossibly fresh and good; but soon, undeniably, it was a kiss. Lazy kiss. Tongues that pressed together for just a moment, and then away again. Alaric seemed to understand it was just a sorry, nothing more or less than that. A sorry, you are my friend, and I am sorry.
āDo it,ā Alaric said, and Stefan hauled him to his feet.
One more crack across the chin, another sickening crunch of skull on stone, and Alaricās face changed.
āThere you are,ā Stefan said, and the thing that possessed his kind human friend sneered back.
