Chapter 58: The Runaway Brother
The house was more bustling than ever — suits being carefully steamed, ties lost and found again, shoes polished to the point of reflecting sunlight. Golden rays streamed through the tall windows of the Salvatore house, drawing threads of light across the polished wooden floors and the scattered white rose petals in their charming disarray.
Stefan stood in the hallway, adjusting his tie in front of the mirror, while Alexander moved with quiet precision, checking cufflinks and smoothing the folds of the formal suits. In his right hand, he held a small flower — white and simple, just as Elena had chosen it to be Damon's boutonniere.
"Are you sure this is the right one?" Stefan asked, eyeing the flower with uncertainty.
Alexander gave him a passing glance. "If she chose it... then it's the right one."
Stefan exhaled with a faint smile. "Can you believe we've reached this moment? Damon... is getting married. To Elena."
Alexander smirked sideways. "Stranger things have happened. Remember the time he tried to cook her breakfast and nearly burned the whole house down?"
Stefan chuckled briefly. "I'm still traumatized by that smoke alarm."
They shared a laugh — the kind born only from years of surviving shared horrors. Then Stefan glanced at his watch. "He should be ready by now. The ceremony starts in two hours. Let's go see if he's done pretending to be calm."
They walked together toward Damon's room, expecting to find him pacing or rehearsing his vows in front of the mirror.
But the room... was empty.
And the window... was open, the curtains fluttering in the morning breeze.
Stefan whispered, eyes widening: "...No. He couldn't have."
Alexander slowly turned his head toward his older brother and said coldly, "He did."
A heavy silence fell.
Then Stefan muttered, barely audible: "He ran away."
Alexander pressed his fingers to his temples, as if trying to push the shock away. "He really did it. He ran on his wedding day."
Stefan's voice rose a notch: "On his wedding day?!"
Alexander began pacing the room in a tight circle, trying to think quickly. "Okay. You stay here. Try to calm everyone down. Make up a decent lie if you have to — say he's... taking a dramatic pre-wedding nap or something."
Stefan gave him a look. "A nap? Really?"
"I don't know, Stefan! I'm improvising!"
Stefan muttered impatiently, "What if someone wants to check the room?"
"Lock the door. Threaten them. Use your vampire charm."
Stefan stared at him long and hard.
Meanwhile, Alexander was slipping into his jacket, checking his phone, then striding quickly to the door.
"I'll find him."
Stefan's voice called after him: "Where do you even start looking for a runaway groom?"
Alexander paused, hand on the doorknob, then said slowly, "Where do you think Damon would go if he felt like he ruined everything?"
"...The old church ruins?"
"No." Alexander's eyes gained sudden depth. "He'll go to the cliff. The one overlooking the falls... or Wickery Bridge."
Stefan's eyes widened: "The cliff? The one Dad used to take us to? I don't think he would, but that's sound logic."
"The place we used to hide when we were kids. He thinks no one else remembers it. And Wickery Bridge... that's where beginnings and endings always happen in this cursed town."
There was a pause, then Stefan's voice came heavier with emotion: "Go... bring back our idiot brother."
Alexander nodded firmly and vanished through the door like a shadow dissolving into the wind.
Outside, the town was quiet, the world spinning as if nothing had changed. But somewhere out there, Damon Salvatore was living a moment of real panic.
And Alexander? He was about to find him — even if he had to carry him back on his shoulder in his formal suit.
--
The sun was slowly climbing into the sky over Mystic Falls as Alexander drove through familiar roads. He didn't know exactly where Damon had gone, but his heart guided him to a few possible places. He tried the old church. The ruins of the family home. He had a list of spots where Damon might be — but decided to check the rest first since they were on the way.
Then he found him — in the most logical place of all... the edge of Wickery Bridge.
Damon was sitting on the ledge, legs dangling over the drop, dressed in his white wedding shirt, sleeves rolled up, his tie tossed into the grass nearby. He didn't even turn when he heard Alexander's footsteps behind him.
"Did you bring a formal jacket, or just the worried little brother tone?" he asked without looking.
Alexander ignored the sarcasm, standing silently beside him.
"You tried to run again," he said quietly. "Classic."
Damon muttered without looking up, "I didn't run. I just... stepped away."
"For two hours?"
"For two hours."
A heavy silence settled. The breeze rustled through the trees. Birds chirped in the background, unaware that one of the world's deadliest vampires was sitting there brooding like a teenage boy.
Finally, Damon spoke in a low voice: "I can't do it."
Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Can't do what? Marry the woman you love? Be happy?"
Damon's voice dropped further: "I don't deserve it. Not after everything I've done. Not after everyone I've hurt, all the lives I've ruined. Hell, I killed Jeremy once."
Alexander narrowed his eyes. "So what?"
Damon froze, staring at him silently.
Alexander's voice was calm, but laced with bitterness. "I've killed children, Damon. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn't know how to stop. I was cursed, angry, lost... broken. I tortured people. Tore them apart."
"Don't compare us—"
"Don't. Let me speak," Alexander snapped, his voice suddenly sharp with long-suppressed emotion.
He stepped closer, voice like a blade drawn clean.
"If someone like you doesn't deserve happiness, then what about me? Am I doomed to rot in the shadows forever because I'm worse than you? Because I was born of pain, shaped by a man who hated me?"
Damon said nothing, but guilt shimmered in his eyes.
Alexander spoke again, quieter now, but deeper: "You're not a monster, Damon. You're a man who did terrible things... but still wants to be good. That's rare. And precious."
Damon murmured, voice trembling: "I've ruined everything, Alex. Made Stefan's life hell. Hurt Elena. Drove away everyone who ever loved me."
Alexander replied: "But they always came back. Elena never stopped loving you. Stefan never gave up on you. And I haven't either."
Damon slowly turned to look at him.
Alexander gave him a half-smile — pained, but warm.
He said simply, "Because you're my brother. And I've seen your heart — even when you buried it under guilt and sarcasm and whiskey. Because you didn't leave me when I needed you. So I'm not letting you destroy this out of fear."
Damon lowered his gaze to his trembling hands.
"I'm scared, Alex."
Alexander nodded steadily. "That's good. It means it matters to you."
Silence stretched. Then finally, Damon stood, brushing off his pants.
"I don't have my jacket."
Alexander tossed him the one he'd brought. "I've got your back."
Damon hesitated one last moment, then asked, voice cracking:
"You think I can really do this?"
Alexander placed a firm hand on his brother's shoulder and said, "You won't do it alone. Stefan and I will be there. And when you see Elena... everything else will disappear."
Damon let out a shaky breath, then gave a small, crooked smile.
"Then let's go... get me married."
---
At the Salvatore house, the tension melted the moment Elena saw Damon walk in, leaning on Alexander's shoulder. Her eyes filled with tears — not of sadness, but of relief. Stefan exhaled deeply, a wry smirk curling his lips.
He asked as he watched Damon being gently pulled away by the wedding coordinator, "So?"
Alexander smiled. "Dramatic speech on the bridge."
"Sounds about right."
As the music began again, and Damon made his way to the altar, Alexander stood at the back for a moment.
He looked at his brothers — one at the altar, the other waiting nearby — and smiled.
They had once been broken boys in a cursed house.
Now... they were men. Together.
And for the first time in a long time, life felt right.
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