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alaric saltzman is not a role model (deathandbourbon) wrote in thedoorway,

Ric was surprised by the knock on his door. It was late, or late enough anyway that he wasn't expecting any company. He'd been reading, drinking his customary late night bourbon. He knew his habits weren't exactly healthy, but he figured he'd earned it. He was stuck in another reality, and apparently back home he would have become a psychotic killer, murdered half the council, turned into a vampire and died. Oh, and it was all fiction here, for anyone to see. Not exactly the happiest of life stories. Honestly, it felt like his life since Isobel had "died" had just been one giant tragedy. He probably would have been better off never trying to avenge her in the first place. Still, he was glad that Elena and Bonnie had told him the truth. Better than finding out from the television or the internet.

Speaking of, that was probably one of them at the door. He couldn't think of anyone else who would want to see him. His smartphone had given him an email alert, but he hadn't bothered to check it yet and he didn't bother now, just knocked back the rest of his drink and set it down before moving to the door. "Elena," he said as he opened it, "is everything-" And then everything stopped, his breath catching, because it wasn't Elena. And even though he knew people could show up who had died, knew that he himself had done so, it didn't stop his heart from twisting in his chest at the sight of Jenna. His Jenna. The woman he loved more than anything. The woman he had so completely failed.

"Jen." It was more a breath than a word. He couldn't reconcile the woman in front of him with the months of grieving, the complete, shattering emptiness he had felt in her absence. All he could do was stare at her, willing her to say or do something, or to fade away like so many drunken hallucinations.