"You two seem like you have a lot of history," Elena said as Damon plucked a book off of one of the shelves. "You don't look at an acquaintance that way. Not unless they've only turned into an acquaintance in the last few decades."
"We do have history," Damon conceded. "About thirty years of it, in fact. I don't want to talk about how or why, but we've been on rocky streets since '99. All that I'll say of that is that it's my fault. It was my mistake, and even if it didn't kill him, it made him wish he were dead. The relationship has been living at the end of Never Gonna Recover Drive for a little more than a decade now. Don't do your Elena thing, where you try to fix it. Our relationship is beyond fixing, and I've fully accepted that fact." I have, Damon thought. I'm done trying to fix whatever was left of us at the end of things.
"How bad was it, really?" Elena asked. Stefan grimaced as he poured out two glasses of bourbon, sliding one across the counter into Damons waiting hand.
"It wasn't the action that was bad," Stefan said. "It was actually rather honorable, when you look at it from that kind of a standpoint. It was the reaction to the act. It was the act of Damon telling Klaus to hurt him rather than Rhys. It was Klaus choosing not to listen. It ended their relationship completely. They've hated each other since then. Before you ask, no, I don't get it. The hatred part of things has always perplexed me."
But Damon didn't hate Rhysand. He hated Klaus Mikaelson, hated hearing his name, hated knowing that Rhysand was only staying with them because Klaus was angry at him for abandonment and because of the fact that Rhysand just wanted to leave Klaus in the dust.
"I don't hate him," Damon said. "I pretend to, for the sake of an even playing field, give myself reasons to dislike him for that reason as well. Hatred, disdain? They're only fun if, A, they're mutually exclusive, and B, occurring on both the side of the one who deserves the hatred and the one who feels it."
With the words, Damon took a sip of the bourbon he held, trying not to recall the fact that, even nine years since he'd stowed them away, ripped a few in a fit of anger, he still knew exactly where the box with the photos of the two of them, with the letters Rhysand had sent, was located in the depths of his closet.
Stefan shrugged. "You two will bounce back eventually," he said. "I give it two years, maybe three? Definitely not more than that."
"I don't think bouncing back is something at all within our cards, Stef," Damon responded. "If it were, it would've happened by now. I don't even want us to, at this point. I just sort of want to move on, get past it. I don't even need his forgiveness, nor do I want it." He did, though. Forgiveness was the first thing he wanted from Rhysand. To have to forget him? Move on? Those were the last items on a very long list.
Damon was entirely willing to play the part of rival, though. If Rhysand wanted to hate him, it was certainly not for bad reason, and it was justified. Damon had known that the response to his answer to Klaus' question had gotten Rhysand hurt, spent years apologizing, though he knew Rhysand wasn't obligated to accept those apologies and never tried to make him feel as though he was.
Stefan gave a shrug, finishing his bourbon as Elena passed him a mug of tea, both mugs she'd made having steeped while Damon gave Rhysand his things and he and Stefan talked.
"You never know, Damon," Stefan said. "He might just forgive you yet."
"The day that he does is the day that pigs fly." Damon scoffed.
"I suspect to see a pig mid flight by 2011, then," Stefan said with a grin. "Seriously. Stop doubting it so much. Things are going to progress as they're meant to, and part of me feels like the universe doesn't want you apart."
"And what gives you license to say as much?" Damon asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Call it the intuition of a brother and best friend."
Damon scoffed, heading through the kitchen and rinsing out his glass in the sink. He left it there, heading up to his room quietly.
Once there, as he sat on his bed, book in hand, he pressed his back against the headboard and sighed. He'd made a mistake. He'd fucked up. He knew that.
"Rhys?" He whispered into the open air.
"Damon?" Rhys whispered back from his room, admittedly sounding a bit tired and confused. "What is it? Are you all right?"
It hit him with the words, finally, after a decade, the reality set in. He and Rhysand were not as they were eleven years before. Damon had snapped, and he'd fucked it all up, ruined any future they may have had.
"I heard you snoring earlier. You're awake?"
"Took a power nap, yep," Rhysand said. "Tired, definitely, but I'll drink some coffee tomorrow morning and be right as rain. What did you need?"
"I just—I just uh—wanted to make sure you were okay, is all. Not too tired from all the driving." I totally remain uncurious as to whether or not you truly hate me, or if it's just an act. I know you do, but I just need to know for sure, he thought.
"You're wondering whether or not I hate you, Salvatore," Rhysand whispered. Though Damon wasn't looking at him, he could tell that Rhysand was smiling. "Your head has always been easy to get into, and your thoughts tend to get a bit too loud for my tastes." He sighed.
Damon waited. One moment, two, then three and four.
"I do hate you, by the way," Rhysand said. Damon could've sworn he felt his heart break as the words reached his ears. "But, all the same, I don't. I—I don't know, Damon. On the one hand, I can't hate you. It's not something I've ever been capable of, no matter how hard I've tried. On the other? Hating you is all that makes sense. Sometimes, it feels like no amount of apologies will ever make up for what happened. I'm trying to reason with that side, trying to quiet it because I know that it really wasn't your fault, but Damon, I just—I can't. Everything you've done since that night? It's made you seem less worthy of redemption, of forgiveness. I'm sorry."
Damon sighed, running a hand through his hair as he opened the book he'd grabbed.
Neither of them said anything from that point, Rhysand likely going to sleep where Damon stayed up with the intent to read.
YOU ARE READING
Forget All, Remember None | slow updates
Fanfiction"No," Rhysand said. "I wouldn't change anything about you. I loved you exactly as you'd been."
