❝the dinner party, pt. one❞ 

HE'D BEEN RUNNING SINCE HE LEFT STEFAN. When he left Mystic Falls, he left behind an entire life of bad memories, he left behind the death that seemed to follow him.

He was in Nevada now, living in a secluded old cabin in the middle of the woods. He only went to town to feed, anything else he tried to obtain in a private matter– having people deliver it or finding it himself. He didn't want to be known by anyone anymore, just simply existing in his new life.

When he left Stefan, he knew it was for the best. He'd felt guilty at first, not wanting to leave behind the last bit of family he had left, but when he saw how out of control his brother had become in his transition, he knew he couldn't stay. He had yet to even mourn his wife, he couldn't just push the thought of Rosemary to the side to fuss over his brother.

Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him to leave Stefan when he needed help, but Damon wasn't capable to do any sort of caring at the moment. In his countryside solitude, he'd been left with nothing but his thoughts to haunt him, and they did just that.

Some mornings he swore he woke up to the sound of Rosemary cooking breakfast, wrapped in a robe and gliding through the kitchen like the elegant woman she was. He was so afraid to move from his bed sometimes because if he did, she'd be gone again. No matter how lucid he'd become, nothing could tell him she wasn't there with him those mornings.

And if waking up to it wasn't enough torture on his already bruised and battered mind, he dreamt of her too. Nightmares, dreams, a moment in time that's simply just a memory his subconscious is torturing him with.

In his best dreams he heard her laughter in his ears as if she was standing right there, and in his worst nightmares he's watching her die right before him, unable to do anything but watch in agony as the love of his life is taken from him. No matter how wonderful the dreams can be, or how awful, he's stuck in a loop of misery, unable to get out of it.

His life has become a long cycle of the same thing. Purchase things he needs to survive in bulk, feed once a week at best, and do nothing but stare at his walls and wonder if he could've done something to save Rosemary.

Sometimes his thoughts travel to killing Stefan, or killing Katherine. His father's already dead, so it's not like he can take his anger out on him. He always tries to stop those thoughts before he spirals too far, because he knows with every spiraling thought, it gets harder and harder to pull himself back out of his own mind.

Over the months in his loneliness, he's grown angry with his brother instead of feeling sorry for how he's turned out. He used to feel this overbearing guilt, an obligation towards his only remaining family, but all of that disappeared the longer he realized Stefan had fault in it all.

If it weren't for Stefan bringing Katherine around, if he'd recognized her feelings for Rosemary before it was too late, it could've been stopped. If he'd broken out of the trance Katherine had put him in, Rosemary would still be alive.

But those realizations brought him anger, and his anger began to consume him. He just didn't want to turn into Stefan, into some unrecognizable monster wreaking havoc just because he could.

He wouldn't turn into a monster. Rosemary wouldn't want that for him, even if she was gone.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Damon frowned as he walked into the dining room where Jenna was setting up plates and cups. "What are you doing in my house?"

Jenna's head snaps up, and she looks at her friend who's staring like a deer caught in headlights. "Damon,"

"Are we just inviting anyone over to dinner parties now?" Damon held his hands out with a frown, quickly turning away from Jenna and Andie, the latter of which is frowning at his apparent disdain for her appearance. 

He storms back to the study and glares at Alaric in betrayal. "Why did your girlfriend invite the news lady to dinner? Aren't we supposed to be planning a murder?"

Alaric sighed. "She's not my girlfriend, Damon."

"That's what you're getting stuck on?" Damon looked at him incredulously. "You told me not to kill Andie, but she's in my house when I'm trying to kill someone else. You know how tempting that is?"

Sighing, Alaric gives him an imploring look. "I know, I know, it's just, Jenna invited her along last minute and I'm already on her bad side, I couldn't tell her that her friend couldn't come." Alaric gave him a what are you supposed to do, look and Damon glared, pouring himself a drink. "Besides, this whole dinner party is a bad idea."

"There's no such thing as a bad idea. Just poorly executed awesome ones." He offers Alaric a drink, but the man refuses it.

"I don't like the idea of Elijah being in the same house with Jenna."

Damon felt that twinge of irony again and half-smirked. "Jenna's perfectly safe. Besides, it's just a fact-finding mission. It's totally harmless."

"Just a fact-finding mission?" Alaric's deadpan, as monotone as it was, was full of disbelief. "You just said you were trying to kill him."

Damon nodded his head. "Yeah, well I probably won't kill Elijah."

"Listen, no sneak attacks. No surprise plans. Nothing that's gonna put Jenna in harm's way. Okay?"

Damon holds up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

Alaric tilts his head, giving Damon a disbelieving look.

Footsteps echo on the hardwood and the two men turn to look at Andie where she stands with her hands clasped nervously in front of her. "Jenna needs help with the wine,"

Damon pushes Alaric towards her, and he leaves with a sigh. He eyes Andie, still standing against the wooden post a few feet away.

"I, uh, can't help but notice you don't wear a wedding ring."

"What?" He faces her with a frown, his fingers instinctively falling to his empty ring finger.

She points to his hand, gesturing to the bare finger. "You told me you were married, but you don't wear a ring. And several other people have told me you don't have a wife. If you wanted to turn me down, you could've just said so."

He scoffs, anger filling him at her attempt at calling him out. "I did. Multiple times." He walks over to the table and grabs the dagger out of the box, sliding it up his sleeve before Andie can see it. "My wife took my ring on vacation with her by accident, but don't worry— she'll be back soon."

He steps beside her, giving her a hesitant once over. "I'm gonna go find Rose."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

"What about the humans," Rose gestures wildly to Damon and Elijah, who are watching the vampire pace along the floors. "The girls downstairs. They can't find out anything, right?"

"If they do I'll just kill them," Damon shrugs like the answer was obvious.

"You can't kill Jenna, we need her still. And if you kill Jenna, you'll have to kill Ric." Rose gives him a knowing look, and Damon groans.

He looks to the Original that's been quiet nearly the entire time, save for a few disagreeing grunts or a roll of his eyes. "Care to chime in, Oh, Wise One?"

Elijah glares at him briefly. "Rose is right. Jenna must be here for the sacrifice. But the other one, the woman from the news, she's collateral damage. She sounds far too nosy for her own good, and that is a fatal trait."

Damon slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up. "Great. It's decided. Jenna and Ric live, everyone else dies– maybe." He adds on the last word after a warning look from Rose and Elijah, and frowns at their sudden synchronization. He supposes, though, that you learn a lot about someone after running from them for 500 years.

The ring of the doorbell cuts their conversation off, and Damon gestured for Rose to follow him, giving Elijah his cue to leave inconspicuously so he could enter through the front door unsuspected.

Rose broke off from Damon to head to the kitchen, and Damon made his way to the front door.

Jenna swung the door open before he could, and her polite smile immediately fell into a glare at the sight of John Gilbert.

"Who invited him?"

Damon shrugged at her, amused at her anger. "I figured if we were inviting people at random,"

"I gotta admit, Damon, I'm a little surprised I got your invitation tonight. I wasn't aware we were on dinner party terms."

"We aren't, but we're going to bury the hatchet for tonight. Sound good?"

John nods, but gives him a suspicious look. "No games?"

"There are not going to be any games tonight, John. Just a friendly dinner party."

Alaric looks past John, giving Damon a warning look that makes the vampire hold his hands up in surrender. "What he said,"

John gave in with a sigh, but Damon could see that his defenses were still on high. It wouldn't matter anyways, this night was on a steady track of success already– albeit, with a little bit of collateral damage.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

author's note; insert evil laughter

edited and published; 4.2.22.

- liz