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Damon glared angrily at the empty bottle of bourbon, trying to decide on the best course of action. His muscles bunched with the desire to hurl the bottle against the wall, leaving the fragments for Stefan to pick up when he came home.
If the bastard came home.
Because after the fight with the latest homicidal psycho, Elena had suddenly rediscovered her undying love for Stefan, and they had run off together in the middle of the night like a couple of lovesick teenagers. Caroline, rather than commiserate with Damon about stupid exes, somehow blamed him for the situation and was even more hateful towards him than usual. Even Bonnie had left to stay with college friends for a while, for whatever reason that she didn't share with him.
That was three months ago, leaving Damon with the distinct impression that he’d been abandoned.
Who was he kidding? Of course they’d left him. Nobody actively chose to have Damon around. He was moody and sarcastic and only needed so long as there was dirty work to be done. Which, after said dirty work was completed, the others promptly judged him for doing it. His father was probably cackling in Hell right now at Damon's downfall.
Frankly, Damon didn't want to deal with any of it anymore.
New bottle in hand and considerably more morose, Damon considered his options. He’d never thought of himself as suicidal, but he had to admit that taking off his ring and stepping into the sun was not entirely unappealing at the moment. He wasn't immature enough to turn off his humanity or burn down the boardinghouse, no matter what the Mystic Falls Morality Patrol thought. He could disappear, but he had no doubt that Stefan and Elena would hunt him down eventually and drag him back into their messes, probably in the name of keeping him out of trouble.
Maybe he could drink himself into a stupor and go jump off a--
That was actually an excellent idea. It wouldn't actually kill him, but it would take him out for awhile, maybe long enough for him to get some actual rest.
What the hell; he deserved some downtime. Plan decided, he took another drink.
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It took less than a week of increasingly poor planning for Damon to exhaust the alcohol supply in the house and make his way to Wikery Bridge. He was not unaware of the irony of choosing to jump in the same place he once saved Elena’s life, but it only made him more determined to do it. He couldn't help but wonder, though, how his life would have been different if Elena had died that day. If he was honest with himself, there was a small, dark part of him that wished that he hadn't saved her.
With any luck, Damon would hit his head on some rocks and drown, be pushed downstream in the freezing cold water, and by the time he woke up, he’d be somewhere no one had ever heard of him. It was a horrible plan, even for Mystic Falls, but Damon didn't care. He just wanted to forget for a little while.
Damon didn't bother closing his eyes when he jumped, but the rock his head smashed into when he hit the water was more than enough to render him unconscious.
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If Niklaus Mikaelson had been asked to make a list of the people in Mystic Falls stupid enough to kill themselves, Damon Salvatore wouldn't even have made it on the list. In the hybrid’s opinion, Damon was too stubborn to give in, even when surrender was by far the best course of action. Yet, Klaus found himself surprisingly frozen as he watched the dark shape of the other man disappear into the water. Precious seconds went by as the hybrid hesitated before he sped down to the water to rescue the younger vampire.
“You're going to owe me, Salvatore,” Klaus griped as he dragged Damon to the shore a few minutes later. Jumping in a ice cold river was not his idea of a good time, and the younger vampire’s foolishness had ruined a perfectly good outfit. Still, with a grimace of distaste, he threw Damon over his shoulder and sped home.
Thankfully, the others were otherwise occupied, so Klaus didn't have to worry about nosy, judgmental siblings prying into his business when he walked into the house carrying a drowned Salvatore. Once upstairs, the hybrid redressed Damon and tucked him into his bed without even thinking about it.
After that, there was nothing to do but wait, and Klaus was rubbish at waiting.
No matter how busy he tried to keep while waiting for the other man to wake, Klaus's mind kept darting back to Damon Salvatore and whatever had made him jump off of a bridge. Granted, he paid only cursory attention to Stefan and the others most of the time, but surely he would have noticed if there had been some sort of falling out? Perhaps there was some new villain that the Salvatores had been unable to vanquish to everyone’s satisfaction?
Klaus had noticed that the others often held Damon's forthrightness against him, and that they were often unsympathetic to any positive emotions that the elder Salvatore might show, but he had never thought that they would leave him in such a state.
He was brought out of his thoughts with a groan from Damon, who was watching him with wary eyes. “Klaus?”
“I saved your life, and you still don't trust me?” He fixed the other man with a quick grin that seemed to unsettle Damon even more.
“We hate each other,” he said tiredly. “The only reason you would pull me out of the river is because you want something. So what do you want?”
Klaus clenched his teeth, but forced himself to calm down. Though he’d never admit it, Niklaus felt very much out of his depth, and nothing good would come from antagonizing Damon while he was ill. “I want many things,” he said finally, “but I'll settle for your company.”
Damon stared at him like he had grown another head. “What would that entail, exactly?” he asked suspiciously. For all he knew, Klaus was on Caroline's side about everything and was just toying with him.
“The two of us shall spend time together,” he answered plainly. “If you happen to end up in my bed, so much the better.”
Damon jerked in surprise before he realized exactly where he was and smirked instead. “I think I'm already there.” Then he frowned. “You don't have to--”
“I'm sure you're quite aware that I don't do things I don't want to do. If your brother and Elena are problems, I'll deal with them.”
If Niklaus hadn't been looking at Damon, he never would have seen the shadow that passed over the elder Salvatore’s eyes. “They're gone,” he whispered, before looking up at Klaus. “I saw an opportunity to kill the latest bad guy and I took it, and now everybody hates me for it even though we all know that Bonnie and I would have been the ones to kill it eventually anyway. I can't win. If I let the bad guy keep terrorizing the town, I'm a villain. If I kill him, I'm a monster.”
“We'll be gone before your wayward brother returns, then. Let them fight their own monsters for once. How do you feel about Italy?”
Damon scoffed. “You're not taking me to Italy.”
It was the hybrid’s turn to smirk. “Aren't I?”
“We'd kill each other!”
“It will never be boring,” the hybrid mused slyly. “No gondolas, though. We can't have you jumping out of the boat.”
Despite everything, Damon found himself considering the offer. He actually opened his mouth to agree, then hesitated. “I can't just abandon them.”
“Even though that's what they did to you? Elena’s bloodline taints everyone that it touches. Don't die for people who don't appreciate you. Better yet, don't die at all.” He shot the other vampire with a piercing glare. “I'm more than willing to protect you from yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because unlike the rest of your little band of misfits, I don't want to watch Elena toy with you and crush your heart. Come with me,” he cajoled. “We'll both be happy.”
Damon grinned. “Only if you promise to wine me and dine me.”
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Thirty-two hours later, Damon Salvatore was sitting on a plane, Klaus Mikaelson’s face pressed into his shoulder.
He knew that not everything was fixed--and it wouldn't be, maybe for a long time--but Damon was still the happiest he’d been in years.