[fic] Gravity Hurts (1/9)
Title: Gravity Hurts (1/9)
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Jeremy POV; Jeremy + Damon (+ Alaric); Damon/Elena, Stefan/Elena
Word Count: ~1900
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (for language)
Spoilers: Everything through S3.
Summary: A bromance for the ages.
Author's notes: This fic is derived from this thread of discussion with shipperjunkie. I hope this will touch upon some of what we talked about!
Elena paces in the morgue and Caroline stands by with a bloodbag. Her eyes meet Jeremy's and all he can process is that he's already been through this, this fucking week. First Ric, now Elena. Is he supposed to be noble and say, No, go ahead, die. Leave me here with all the vampires and no adults.
Maybe he could even say it, for Elena, but is he supposed to mean it?
No, nobody would expect that.
She doesn't even say anything, she finally just reaches her hand out and takes the bag from Caroline. That's when Jeremy turns on Stefan. He punches him hard, feels multiple bones in his hand break, and doesn't give a flying fuck about the pain radiating up his arm. Stefan goes down (later, Jeremy will realize the vampire let that happen to make it easier for him to pound him), but it doesn't prevent Damon from grabbing Jeremy by his shoulders and throwing him across the room. His back hits the door hard, and he's ready to let a stream of swear words fill the air between him and Damon, but Damon reaches down and grabs his brother by the front of his shirt.
Then he starts hitting him, too, and Jeremy feels every landed punch, like it comes from his own fist. Damon's much more capable of hurting Stefan, and Jeremy revels in it, in the blood that splatters down his chin onto his shirt from his nose and lip.
Elena has barely taken her first mouthful of human blood before she's screaming Damon's name, and that eventually gets him to stop. He drops Stefan back to the ground like a sack of potatoes; Stefan rolls away with a soft groan. Then Damon's eyes swing around to Jeremy. Something passes between them, like they're on the same team or whatever, so Jeremy opens the door with the hand he's not cradling against his chest. He nods for Damon to precede him through it and they walk out of the morgue, and then the hospital, together. At the curb, Damon bites his wrist and offers Jeremy his blood, gesturing vaguely at his broken hand. "I won't let you get killed between now and this time tomorrow," he mutters, and Jeremy can't help the way his eyebrows fly upward.
"I promise," Damon says, shoving his wrist against Jeremy's lips.
He rides shotgun in Damon's Mustang, silent as the bones in his hand start knitting themselves back together.
They don't really talk about it at first. Damon sleeps on the couch in the living room, and Elena doesn't come home. Jeremy gets up and goes to school, because faking it until he makes it seems to be his only viable coping mechanism; he lies about Elena being sick with some mysterious illness that might keep her out of school for a while to everyone who doesn't know the truth, and when he comes home, Damon's sitting on the couch, drinking bourbon straight from the bottle.
He sits next to him and Damon just hands him the bottle, like this is normal.
"What's going on?" Jeremy asks, but he doesn't take a drink.
"I don't know," Damon says, tilting his head towards Jeremy. "And I don't want to know. It's just better all around if I don't see Stefan. So, if you want to know what their plan is, you better call them."
"What are you going to do?" Jeremy asks, because he can't imagine Damon taking up Ric's old job as guardian.
Damon closes his eyes and rests his head on the couch cushions. "I have no fuckin' idea," he mutters.
Jeremy puts the bottle on the coffee table and goes upstairs to call his sister.
He wakes up around noon on Saturday and comes downstairs because there is girlish laughter and weird music coming from the living room. Damon is lounging on the couch with three girls, all of whom don't look much older than Jeremy. When one of them leans close to the vampire, offering up the artery in her neck like it's nothing, he just stands at the foot of the stairs and watches.
It's gross, and horrifying, and Jeremy suddenly feels like Elena got turned into a vampire and he got turned into Elena because he rushes forward and demands, "What the hell is going on here?"
Damon lifts his head from the girl's neck and gives him a bloody smile. "Just a little dinner, Jer. No worries. I won't get blood on the sofa."
Jeremy looks around at the girls, the two that aren't directly on Damon's lap and he says, "You girls need to go home. Get out of here!" He raises his voice just a little.
Damon's arm shoots out, grabbing Jeremy's wrist over the back of the couch. He holds him tightly, though not painfully, but Jeremy knows if he tries to pull back, it's going to turn ugly. "They are compelled to stay for as long as I want them here, and I want them here a while longer," he says pleasantly. His eyes are hard, though, and Jeremy feels fear skitter up his back.
Damon did kill him, once, after all. It would be good to always remember that.
"They'll leave in a bit," Damon says firmly though his words are slightly slurred, either from alcohol, his fangs, or combination of both. He lets go of Jeremy's arm. "If you want," he points to one of the girls that is dark and Asian, similar in looks to Anna. "That one would probably show you a good time."
Disgusted, Jeremy turns away, scoffing. He stops dead when he sees Alaric leaning against the wall that leads into the kitchen. "He's pretty well gone for now, Jeremy. You'd better catch him when he's sober and set up some house rules."
"Right, like giving him rules is going to make this better," Jeremy spits.
Alaric gestures for him to follow him into the kitchen. "Tomorrow, when he's sober, I'll help you deal with him. He'll probably listen."
"Probably?" Jeremy asks. He doubts it very much, and he gives Ric a look he hopes shows that.
Ric shrugs. "He's difficult, but he needs you, otherwise he wouldn't be here. I'm sure, if he knows I'm there, he'll be somewhat receptive."
"Elena's a vampire," Jeremy says, sitting down at the table with the ghost of his dead guardian. Damon hollers, "Woo-Hoo!" from the living room, and Jeremy cranes his neck to see his housemate dancing around the living room with his three guests. If he can tell Jeremy is talking to anyone, he's not showing it. "What if he kills one of them?" he asks.
"He won't," Alaric says. "And I know about Elena. I was actually just at the Boarding House. It's not going well over there."
Jeremy turns his eyes back to Ric. "I talked to her the other day, but she was just telling me what she thinks I want to hear. She kept promising that when she learns to get this under control, everything will be better, but I don't know." Jeremy shakes his head. "I sorta think we've got this all wrong. Damon should be the one over there with her and Stefan should be here with me. Well," he snorts. "I mean, I don't want Stefan anywhere near any of us, especially Elena. He let her die, Ric."
"He did what she wanted him to," Ric says softly.
"Right, but I'm still pissed at him. Who let's their girlfriend die, even if she said so? That's messed up."
Ric nods. "Yeah, Jer. It's all messed up." He gives Jeremy an intent look. "We've got to try and hold Damon together. Because you're right, Elena's going to need him, but by the time she gets around to figuring that out? He could be off the deep end and irretrievable."
Jeremy can feel his eyes going wide as he realizes just what Alaric is suggesting. "There is no way in hell I'll ever be able to 'hold Damon together.'" He leans forward, as if suddenly Damon might start paying attention to the crazy guy talking to himself in the kitchen. "Ric, it's Damon."
Ric purses his lips in that fatherly way of his. "I know, Jeremy. And you're pretty much his only hope."
The next day, Jeremy comes downstairs to find Damon channel surfing. He's got a cocktail glass in his hand, but there aren't any underage girls nearby. He leans his arms on the back of the sofa and says, "Did I tell you that Ric visits me sometimes?"
Damon jerks around to look at him, and one side of his mouth quirks up. "Huh. No, you didn't, but that's nice for you, I suppose." He's sober and quiet, and Jeremy wonders what he's thinking about. It's like the stuff from the day before hadn't even happened.
"It's nice to see him sometimes," he says conversationally. What he wants is to lay it all out, demand that Damon help Elena and not be his normal jackassy self, but he and Ric have a plan. "He suggested you teach me how to drive."
Damon looks a little dumbfounded by this pronouncement and his eyes narrow as he watches Jeremy. "He what?"
"Nobody's bothered to teach me to drive, what with all the mayhem and stuff. I thought it would be cool to learn in a classic Mustang."
This is a total lie; he learned to drive over a year ago because Jenna had forced him to so she could call it "quality time" with him. He got his license right after he turned sixteen, and that was nearly nine months ago. But he's banking on the fact that Damon doesn't know that and has never seen him drive a car. It was the only thing he and Ric could think of that Damon might be willing to do that wasn't a completely inappropriate activity. Someday, Jeremy totally plans on getting Damon to show him how to pick up chicks, but that can wait until after his sister is a fully functioning vampire.
Damon takes a swallow from his glass and stares hard at Jeremy. "I'm sure it would be cool to learn in a classic Mustang; unfortunately, my car is a Camaro."
Jeremy straightens up, and then walks over to open the front door to look at Damon's car, which is parked right out front. "That's a Chevy?"
"You don't know anything about cars, do you, Gilbert?"
"I know that Camaros are Chevys."
Damon gives a half-hearted laugh, and then gets up from the sofa. He claps Jeremy on the back. "Fine. It'll be my last gift to Mystic Falls. I'll teach you to drive."
Jeremy glances at him as Damon grabs his jacket from the coat rack and fishes his keys from the bowl on the table. "Your last gift?"
Damon nods as he shrugs into his jacket. "I've decided I'm going to leave town. It's time to put this all in my rearview, or you know, fucking kill my brother, which isn't going to help since he's training a baby vampire."
As they walk out to the car, Jeremy wonders if Ric is around listening. Holding Damon together won't be a problem at all. Especially if he's not even in Mystic Falls.
...chapter two...
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Jeremy POV; Jeremy + Damon (+ Alaric); Damon/Elena, Stefan/Elena
Word Count: ~1900
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (for language)
Spoilers: Everything through S3.
Summary: A bromance for the ages.
Author's notes: This fic is derived from this thread of discussion with shipperjunkie. I hope this will touch upon some of what we talked about!
Elena paces in the morgue and Caroline stands by with a bloodbag. Her eyes meet Jeremy's and all he can process is that he's already been through this, this fucking week. First Ric, now Elena. Is he supposed to be noble and say, No, go ahead, die. Leave me here with all the vampires and no adults.
Maybe he could even say it, for Elena, but is he supposed to mean it?
No, nobody would expect that.
She doesn't even say anything, she finally just reaches her hand out and takes the bag from Caroline. That's when Jeremy turns on Stefan. He punches him hard, feels multiple bones in his hand break, and doesn't give a flying fuck about the pain radiating up his arm. Stefan goes down (later, Jeremy will realize the vampire let that happen to make it easier for him to pound him), but it doesn't prevent Damon from grabbing Jeremy by his shoulders and throwing him across the room. His back hits the door hard, and he's ready to let a stream of swear words fill the air between him and Damon, but Damon reaches down and grabs his brother by the front of his shirt.
Then he starts hitting him, too, and Jeremy feels every landed punch, like it comes from his own fist. Damon's much more capable of hurting Stefan, and Jeremy revels in it, in the blood that splatters down his chin onto his shirt from his nose and lip.
Elena has barely taken her first mouthful of human blood before she's screaming Damon's name, and that eventually gets him to stop. He drops Stefan back to the ground like a sack of potatoes; Stefan rolls away with a soft groan. Then Damon's eyes swing around to Jeremy. Something passes between them, like they're on the same team or whatever, so Jeremy opens the door with the hand he's not cradling against his chest. He nods for Damon to precede him through it and they walk out of the morgue, and then the hospital, together. At the curb, Damon bites his wrist and offers Jeremy his blood, gesturing vaguely at his broken hand. "I won't let you get killed between now and this time tomorrow," he mutters, and Jeremy can't help the way his eyebrows fly upward.
"I promise," Damon says, shoving his wrist against Jeremy's lips.
He rides shotgun in Damon's Mustang, silent as the bones in his hand start knitting themselves back together.
They don't really talk about it at first. Damon sleeps on the couch in the living room, and Elena doesn't come home. Jeremy gets up and goes to school, because faking it until he makes it seems to be his only viable coping mechanism; he lies about Elena being sick with some mysterious illness that might keep her out of school for a while to everyone who doesn't know the truth, and when he comes home, Damon's sitting on the couch, drinking bourbon straight from the bottle.
He sits next to him and Damon just hands him the bottle, like this is normal.
"What's going on?" Jeremy asks, but he doesn't take a drink.
"I don't know," Damon says, tilting his head towards Jeremy. "And I don't want to know. It's just better all around if I don't see Stefan. So, if you want to know what their plan is, you better call them."
"What are you going to do?" Jeremy asks, because he can't imagine Damon taking up Ric's old job as guardian.
Damon closes his eyes and rests his head on the couch cushions. "I have no fuckin' idea," he mutters.
Jeremy puts the bottle on the coffee table and goes upstairs to call his sister.
He wakes up around noon on Saturday and comes downstairs because there is girlish laughter and weird music coming from the living room. Damon is lounging on the couch with three girls, all of whom don't look much older than Jeremy. When one of them leans close to the vampire, offering up the artery in her neck like it's nothing, he just stands at the foot of the stairs and watches.
It's gross, and horrifying, and Jeremy suddenly feels like Elena got turned into a vampire and he got turned into Elena because he rushes forward and demands, "What the hell is going on here?"
Damon lifts his head from the girl's neck and gives him a bloody smile. "Just a little dinner, Jer. No worries. I won't get blood on the sofa."
Jeremy looks around at the girls, the two that aren't directly on Damon's lap and he says, "You girls need to go home. Get out of here!" He raises his voice just a little.
Damon's arm shoots out, grabbing Jeremy's wrist over the back of the couch. He holds him tightly, though not painfully, but Jeremy knows if he tries to pull back, it's going to turn ugly. "They are compelled to stay for as long as I want them here, and I want them here a while longer," he says pleasantly. His eyes are hard, though, and Jeremy feels fear skitter up his back.
Damon did kill him, once, after all. It would be good to always remember that.
"They'll leave in a bit," Damon says firmly though his words are slightly slurred, either from alcohol, his fangs, or combination of both. He lets go of Jeremy's arm. "If you want," he points to one of the girls that is dark and Asian, similar in looks to Anna. "That one would probably show you a good time."
Disgusted, Jeremy turns away, scoffing. He stops dead when he sees Alaric leaning against the wall that leads into the kitchen. "He's pretty well gone for now, Jeremy. You'd better catch him when he's sober and set up some house rules."
"Right, like giving him rules is going to make this better," Jeremy spits.
Alaric gestures for him to follow him into the kitchen. "Tomorrow, when he's sober, I'll help you deal with him. He'll probably listen."
"Probably?" Jeremy asks. He doubts it very much, and he gives Ric a look he hopes shows that.
Ric shrugs. "He's difficult, but he needs you, otherwise he wouldn't be here. I'm sure, if he knows I'm there, he'll be somewhat receptive."
"Elena's a vampire," Jeremy says, sitting down at the table with the ghost of his dead guardian. Damon hollers, "Woo-Hoo!" from the living room, and Jeremy cranes his neck to see his housemate dancing around the living room with his three guests. If he can tell Jeremy is talking to anyone, he's not showing it. "What if he kills one of them?" he asks.
"He won't," Alaric says. "And I know about Elena. I was actually just at the Boarding House. It's not going well over there."
Jeremy turns his eyes back to Ric. "I talked to her the other day, but she was just telling me what she thinks I want to hear. She kept promising that when she learns to get this under control, everything will be better, but I don't know." Jeremy shakes his head. "I sorta think we've got this all wrong. Damon should be the one over there with her and Stefan should be here with me. Well," he snorts. "I mean, I don't want Stefan anywhere near any of us, especially Elena. He let her die, Ric."
"He did what she wanted him to," Ric says softly.
"Right, but I'm still pissed at him. Who let's their girlfriend die, even if she said so? That's messed up."
Ric nods. "Yeah, Jer. It's all messed up." He gives Jeremy an intent look. "We've got to try and hold Damon together. Because you're right, Elena's going to need him, but by the time she gets around to figuring that out? He could be off the deep end and irretrievable."
Jeremy can feel his eyes going wide as he realizes just what Alaric is suggesting. "There is no way in hell I'll ever be able to 'hold Damon together.'" He leans forward, as if suddenly Damon might start paying attention to the crazy guy talking to himself in the kitchen. "Ric, it's Damon."
Ric purses his lips in that fatherly way of his. "I know, Jeremy. And you're pretty much his only hope."
The next day, Jeremy comes downstairs to find Damon channel surfing. He's got a cocktail glass in his hand, but there aren't any underage girls nearby. He leans his arms on the back of the sofa and says, "Did I tell you that Ric visits me sometimes?"
Damon jerks around to look at him, and one side of his mouth quirks up. "Huh. No, you didn't, but that's nice for you, I suppose." He's sober and quiet, and Jeremy wonders what he's thinking about. It's like the stuff from the day before hadn't even happened.
"It's nice to see him sometimes," he says conversationally. What he wants is to lay it all out, demand that Damon help Elena and not be his normal jackassy self, but he and Ric have a plan. "He suggested you teach me how to drive."
Damon looks a little dumbfounded by this pronouncement and his eyes narrow as he watches Jeremy. "He what?"
"Nobody's bothered to teach me to drive, what with all the mayhem and stuff. I thought it would be cool to learn in a classic Mustang."
This is a total lie; he learned to drive over a year ago because Jenna had forced him to so she could call it "quality time" with him. He got his license right after he turned sixteen, and that was nearly nine months ago. But he's banking on the fact that Damon doesn't know that and has never seen him drive a car. It was the only thing he and Ric could think of that Damon might be willing to do that wasn't a completely inappropriate activity. Someday, Jeremy totally plans on getting Damon to show him how to pick up chicks, but that can wait until after his sister is a fully functioning vampire.
Damon takes a swallow from his glass and stares hard at Jeremy. "I'm sure it would be cool to learn in a classic Mustang; unfortunately, my car is a Camaro."
Jeremy straightens up, and then walks over to open the front door to look at Damon's car, which is parked right out front. "That's a Chevy?"
"You don't know anything about cars, do you, Gilbert?"
"I know that Camaros are Chevys."
Damon gives a half-hearted laugh, and then gets up from the sofa. He claps Jeremy on the back. "Fine. It'll be my last gift to Mystic Falls. I'll teach you to drive."
Jeremy glances at him as Damon grabs his jacket from the coat rack and fishes his keys from the bowl on the table. "Your last gift?"
Damon nods as he shrugs into his jacket. "I've decided I'm going to leave town. It's time to put this all in my rearview, or you know, fucking kill my brother, which isn't going to help since he's training a baby vampire."
As they walk out to the car, Jeremy wonders if Ric is around listening. Holding Damon together won't be a problem at all. Especially if he's not even in Mystic Falls.
...chapter two...