Their friendship had slowly bloomed like a rose grown from broken and infertile soil. Now, in his time of pure darkness, at the end of the clash with his brother, Damon found himself at her doorstep like many times before, but with something different growing in him; and neither he nor she can turn away from it. A fanfic set in the finale of season 3 with AU situations in flashbacks.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story from the Vampire Dairies series. They belong to L.J Smith and the CW.
Every pain he'd ever felt up to this moment started to hit him. No, it started to jab him, and sting him with a thousand needles pressed upon his heart. But for some reason, he'd never felt calmer.
He tried not to think of his unusual calmness as the eye of a hurricane, or the calm before the storm, because he honestly couldn't; he had nothing left in him to give. He had nothing to fight with, or yell with, rebel or even talk with.
He'd lost it all and as his feet carried him into a certain direction he didn't let himself think, because that required strength he didn't have, strength that was taken, and by his little brother of all people.
He didn't even have the strength to look back at his actions, to feel remorse or regret for things he had done and said. It just wasn't him, anyway. He never thought. He just did; and this is probably how he ended up in this situation. His eyes fixated on the horizon as the sun threatened to set before his arrival at his destination of which he had no clue why he was heading to. He just had this need with no explanation; he had nowhere else to go.
Damon didn't even find himself blaming Stefan for what had just occurred. He had chosen to walk up this road filled with destruction and recurring feelings of doubt and the subtle twinge of heartache now and then. Signs had clearly flashed right in front of his eyes, telling him to turn occasionally, but he simply ignored them, he had flipped the switch and didn't let doubt worry him anymore.
To be able to switch off his feelings like he had so many times before is all that he certainly wanted. But he can't find the switch, not this time. It left him numb and calm, but almost slowly dying on the inside, quietly suffering.
Damon was never one to mope or express his innermost feelings, but lately, that's all he'd found himself doing and he had no clue how to deal with it. The vampire followed the only idea he had, and as he crossed Bonnie Bennett's poorly trimmed lawn; he still didn't have a clue why he was here.
He heard the slow beating of a heart on the second floor of the house and knew she was home. He felt stiff everywhere.
It brought him back, wistfully to the days he had strode across Bonnie's lawn with such ease in confidence, out on his own personal mission, that people watching would assume he owned the place.
His mind rolled images that played in faint remembrance as he rigidly took steps closer to Bonnie's porch.
Damon's legs carried him quickly and confidently to Bonnie's door, a curve forming on his lips before he had even caught the sound of her heartbeat beating comfortably with another, slower one, inside.
He assumed her father was home and simply smiled wider at the fact. His knuckles rapped on the door sharply and he composed his to hold a somewhat innocent demeanor; not that Bonnie of all people would buy it.
Footsteps paced closer to the door before it opened slowly.
She opened the door with her head inclined slightly to side, indicating she was still listening to the voice inside. There had been a gratefully amused grin on the witch's face before she spotted him out of the corner of her eyes and finally directed her full attention to him. Her lips had instantly caved into a blunt line, as if the grin had never existed and her cautious gaze drunk him in.
"What do you want?"
"Hello Miss, are you interested in buying a Katherine free home?" A playful grin seeped onto his lips, "all you have to do is let me in." Despite his effort, the only difference in her face was the frown that was starting to turn down the tight line of her lips.
"Can I get a Damon free home? It's probably cheaper, I'll just buy a fly swatter." Though her words were playful, her tone was nothing but hostile. His grin blanched and he swore he spotted a flash of triumph pass through her stone cold gaze. He knew she was afraid of Katherine somehow gaining an invitation to her household, and ultimately afraid for her father; she couldn't hide that from him.
He didn't say anything more, his eyes devouring the sight of her, hoping for a crack of strength somewhere; his ego had been wounded the last time he saw her at the event at the Lockwood's house in honor of the mayor, his visit to correct it was inevitable. Plus, he had access to everyone else in the little gangs houses', why not Bonnie's?
"Damon, did you want something? Or can I leave you to get familiar with my door?"
His jaw clenched just slightly, unable to find any instability in her form; my, my, the little witch had changed. He remembered the fragile and scared little thing he had riled up in the parking lot those many days ago and found no resemble besides physical appearance in the woman in front of him.
"Actually. Yes. I wanted to talk to you about that funny little move you pulled at the Lockwood's last week. What was it again?"
Her arms folded across her chest, her gaze only growing stronger. "You don't like being put down in public, do you Damon?" Her eyes raked down his form, causing the clench of his jaw to tighten considerably. "I didn't like it either." She quickly left him with the mental image of the way he stalked with her down the path to the Mystic Falls High School parking lot, and caught her up against a car. He also thought of the way he had doubted her abilities before the Founders Day celebration, putting her down in front of his brother and her best friend; the image of the way he sunk his teeth into her in the forest that haunting evening also followed.
He mentally brushed the thoughts away, disliking the views from her perspective she was easily pushing his way.
He rolled his eyes, finally, in response to her words, but he knew Bonnie had gotten a glimpse of a Damon who could see through her eyes.
"You really hurt me, Bonnie. Can you do that to other vampires?" His eyes narrowed, ignoring the way her expression had changed into expectancy. He was being serious now; he had come with a nagging in the back of his head which he had tried to ignore, but he just wanted to know the answer now, just for peace of mind for himself, though he didn't know why he wanted it.
"Why do you need to know?" An amble of irritation filled his being and he replied with more infliction of his intention in his voice than before. "Can you, or can you not do that to other vampires, Bonnie?"
She took in the way his voice sounded when he was serious before parting her lips to let her reply through. "Are you planning to use me to take down your life formed enemies, Damon?" A flash of disgust hindered her straight expression for a moment, and Damon had to resist the urge to throw himself at the invisible ward. "Because I wouldn't help you, Damon. Not even if you begged."
He swiftly moved forward, taking her by surprised when she found his face was close to hers as it could get without going past the invisible boundary. His hand banged against the plain wall that held the roof of the house and he leant against it; he wasn't giving any concern to whether he might break it or not.
"This is not about me, you little witch. If you can do that-" Damon's oral exasperation was cut off as he tried to think of the right word to describe the thing she had done to his head at the Lockwood's', "-witchy head trauma magic to other vampires, I don't need to worry about you."
Bonnie looked visibly taken back by his words, and he wouldn't have needed to be close to her to tell. Her eyes were narrowed in slight astonishment, her fingers gripping the doorframe tighter, as if she actually needed the support now, but she didn't lean back or flinch away. She stared into his burning eyes for a moment, contemplating his words and not believing a single bit of it.
"I can take care of myself, Damon. Get away from my house. Don't come back unless you want to start something. Just go away." With that, the door had slammed in his face and her fiery, emerald gaze had disappeared. He absently groaned at the stubbornness she had inflicted upon him. It wasn't liked he really cared; he just wanted one less person to protect; as if he could care about someone so stubborn and irritating and judgmental.
He stormed away from the house, with every intention to return another day.
That had been more a year ago; just after the death of the mayor, but before anything larger than the threat of Katherine had weaned its way into Mystic Falls.
Many times after that he had visited her house, set for an invitation. She had never caved, and at this moment he didn't blame her. It had been a distant infatuation of his, a game he thought he could win. But entrance to Bonnie's house was never a game, and if it were, he never had a chance, not then especially.
All of that had been before he and the witch had what they had now. It was before he and her had built something up, their friendship slowly blooming like a rose grown from broken and infertile dirt. That, he noted, was before they had been through what they had been through, and before he had gotten everything off his chest and had nothing to ground him anymore.
His fingers reached out, slowly, almost robotic-like to press down on the doorbell right next to the pale white door which somehow managed to contrast with the off cream colour of the old building. His fingers pulled away from the small button, remembering a time where ringing the doorbell never even struck his mind. A ding rang throughout the house, evoking movement from the buildings' only resident at this point in time.
His pain didn't lessen, nor did it heighten. His self-doubt increased, however, and he found that he was somewhat afraid of the rejection he might face on her turf. What did he expect from her, really?
Damon dismissed this question, keeping his focus intact as he thought of the few other times he had managed to have a casual conversation with this witch, with this woman; with Bonnie; how she had managed to pull his emotions right from his very being without even trying.
Her words had been flippant and revealing, and she had casually retrieved his true feeling for Elena from his very lips. Her eyes had almost shined bright with shock when he she had managed to grip onto a piece of the puzzle that made Damon Salvatore. He would have just walked away that first time he had spoken to her properly if she hadn't of dismissed his words, not pushing.
He had been curious of the reason for her lack of further interest, as she never pursued further details, brushing it off and getting back to the task at hand. He had found himself in more situations like this with Bonnie and found he didn't mind her subtle, yet strong company after all. He kept coming back, usually hoping she would uncover more. He told things to her he hadn't even said to Elena, but she never pushed, she usually just nodded, and he liked that.
This, Damon could only guess, was the reason for his appearacne to her very front door.
He wondered dimly what she would think of his appearance at her doorstep, or his appearance at all; he was covered in bloodstains, he imagined, rips and other indications of the clash he'd had in somewhat finality with his very brother. Though, Damon had started it, both of them had seen it coming.
Stefan had slipped his way back into Elena's heart, and Damon's dispositions had changed from love to hate. His attention had quit Elena the moment Stefan had begun making it up to her, melting back into the pitiful, romantic Damon loathed more this time than the last; he had another emotion on his mind, but toward his little brother.
From then it hadn't been clear where they would go, only that Damon saw no right in what Stefan had done, and saw even less in how exactly he had done it. Of course his subconscious and reasoning half had reached him at some point, but that point was too late.
While they had been grappling, Elena stricken with horror, at the things they were both doing and saying, Damon's purpose had dropped- falling with every other motive and emotion he had felt since he had returned to this town, and he had exited his own home with bitter emptiness.
Damon's ears picked up on footsteps inside the house that echoed against the wooden floorboards that covered the lower half of the building, he guessed. Of course he had never been inside; it was invitation only for him.
The vampire waited in the fallen darkness, watching as a light flicked on from inside and shone through the cracks of the door to illuminate his face with patches of light. He sensed her when she was on the other side of the door, and while his dull expression didn't change, something washed through him like a swarm of cool water on a feverish, summer day. Her form blocked some of the light streaming through, but Damon saw the doorknob twisting along with her wrist, anyway.
The door opened, revealing her light eyes wider than he had seen them before. She angled her form, showing her sudden surprise of his turn up and general disheveled appearance; he realized he must look as bad as he felt.
Bonnie's soft gaze was captured by his traumatic features, and his eyes never left hers. She'd never seen someone look so… broken. Not ever in her life.
She swallowed upon noticing the pigments around the pale skin of his arms, where his sleeve was slightly torn. It confirmed to Bonnie what she already thought had happened; she had left the Salvatore house early in the morning, planning to listen to her friend's voice in a casual effort to do something normal now that things were calmer, but instead, the only thing she could hear was the tense silence surrounding the Salvatore brothers of whom seemed to never get closer than an arms length to each other.
Now, she could tell that their feeble attempt to avoid conflict and closeness had failed in a way Bonnie had never seen before. Something began to surge in the depths of her being.
Even as memories filtered through her of the many times he had appeared at her door, a charming smile upon his face, vying for an invitation to her house, she knew those memories were behind them, and his appearance now was for a different reason entirely.
He had said nothing since she opened the door, no snarky comments, no seductive smirk or sinister head tilt, he seemed to want nothing but to be there, outside her door. Unlike all the other times he had stepped onto her porch, he had nothing to say.
Bonnie's eyes continued to sweep over him; his clothes were scrunched and reddish brown stains seeped randomly across his dark shirt and jeans, the black of his shirt darker in certain places where, she guessed, his own blood had tinted it.
And in this instant, Bonnie felt something for Damon; it was empathy, it was sympathy, it was sadness, and it was genuine and real and it all fit into something familiar, but yet so odd. It hit her where it hurt, flowing through her veins to her heart which scrunched at the sight of him; it was a human thing, the way she was feeling, and even though a lot of little emotions filtered around it, she couldn't quite figure out what it all came down to, but it happened to be something she felt around the people she cared about.
The Bennett witch stared into his specked, ice blue eyes and noticed how his composure was oddly calm as he stood stiffly outside her door. But, after a moment, his shoulders visibly relaxed and he slumped into a position that Bonnie could only describe as a posture of pure helplessness.
She didn't know if this was a sign, a sign of Damon Salvatore showing his weak side to her, or something else entirely, but she felt the same feelings coarse through her veins, causing her to inwardly shiver; it was hot, and it warmed her inside and out.
"Damon…" she said softly, as she once again tried to figure out just what more of this feeling was, and what exactly had brought him here to give it to her. It was growing as she stared at him, no hostility forcing her chin up, no disappointment or hatred, just a fond understanding, built from months of working together. But not just that, he and she both knew they had been through more than life or death situations; he had listened to her when no one else did, even if she said nothing.
His voice was low when he replied slowly, sounding just as bad as he looked. "Bonnie…" He didn't know what exactly to say, because he didn't even know what he had wanted to achieve by coming here, or why he did.
Damon felt a twinge in him as he stared at her. He wasn't sure what he was letting her see, but he guessed the confusion on her face had something to with the randomness of his appearance. He found it odd as the numbness circling his being was giving way to flowing warmth, which Damon was unsure as what to name. There was something there; something odd as he stared at her, burning in the pit of his stomach and touching a part of him he hadn't felt for a while.
The vampire ducked his head to look at the worn, wooden boards under his feet.
Despite the feeling of being unwanted, he also felt something different, and for both of them, Bonnie and Damon, it had taken looking away from the powerful depths of each other's eyes to finally realise what it was and just what it meant. It was something so simple and so profound that Bonnie didn't understand why she hadn't realised it before; she guessed it was because it was something she thought she would never fully feel in relation to the vampire in front of her.
It half scared Damon, and it had the same affect on Bonnie. He had stepped onto this porch what felt like a thousand times, and never felt this way before; something had changed between them.
The silence between the witch and the vampire strung on, as they both silently gaped in amazement. Bonnie was sure her heart was beating fast and Damon felt a radiance about him growing.
It was strange, and it meant other things that Damon and Bonnie hadn't even begun to think of.
He was about to turn around and leave, either for the air he found he suddenly needed, or for space to clear his now, busy mind, until he caught sight of her face when he looked up.
Her expression was a swirl of flustered amazement; her lips were parted in confusion, but her eyes shone with wonder. He also noticed subtly that she had inched closer; her feet were outside the doorframe, her hand using the doorframe for support like she had so many times before. Just by looking at her face and her eyes that stayed slightly wide, he could tell that she was feeling it too and that she had taken a liking to it almost straight away.
He could also tell that the same expression, more or less, was resting upon his face; fond astonishment, and he could no longer think about leaving, because, he realised, he liked it too.
Bonnie's head shook, wistful amazement still implanted in her eyes as her head angled to the side slightly. They never broke their gaze, however; the feeling was too strong. Damon and Bonnie didn't even have time to marvel at the giant leap they were taking before the words flowed confidently from her mouth, and it was like she was speaking the newfound emotion out loud in silent agreement.
"Damon. You can come in."
Trust.
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