The Vampire Diaries is owned by the CW. Unfortunately I do not own the CW…yet.
A/N: Just a little something I had rolling around in the ole brain box.
4GMK
Damon loves Bonnie Bennett.
If his heart were a forest, he would write it on every single tree. Standing here in the Mystic Falls of their joint afterlife, he knew that this was it for them. Whatever time they would have left, he would spend it with her in his arms, close to his heart where she belong.
No, Bonnie didn't belong in his heart, Bonnie was his heart.
For as long as he'd know the feisty little woman, his heart had burst for her. Elena Gilbert was just a distraction.
Patiently his listened, searching the silence he found the tiny pulsing of her heart. In this atmosphere, Bonnie would die sooner rather than later, but most importantly,
Bonnie would die.
He thought he might go crazy with the thought. He felt as though he could tear out his heart with his own two hands at the thought of Bonnie dying.
That was the real reason he had planned to run his car into the bar full of travelers.
Damon had spent an extremely long time with witches. He knew all about the job of an anchor. When he'd heard that Bonnie could come back from the dead by becoming the anchor, it made him happy that he would be able to see her again, but it hurt him that she would have to endure that kind of pain every day.
She had down played her experience to her friends, but Damon knew. He could see it around the edges of her mouth, the frayed cuticles around her fingertips. Jeremy could only put salve on her wounds for so long, he wasn't enough, but Damon's relationship with Bonnie wasn't strong enough to apply for the position.
But Bonnie was strong, she was always so strong. It was something that Caroline, and especially Elena could never boast. Maybe a bit Caroline, never Elena.
There was only so much crying a man could take.
He had watched the young Bennett witch for as long as she had been alive, he sort of shared in her parentage, having been there in secret to watch her grow.
She was always a prickly one with him, but it wasn't his fault she met Stephen first.
Her eyes were closed now, and her breathing was so slow he had to strain his vampire hearing to catch the rhythm. He had made his decision, even if there was something else out there, someone else, he would do it. She could hate him all she wanted later, she could stake him if she wanted. But at least she would survive.
Slowly, he repositioned their bodies so that she was sitting in his lap and his right hand cupped the back of her head. Cautiously, he bit into his wrist. Vampires had long since learned the strength to bite through their own skin, it was the one thing in his mind that really told him what he was, showed him psychologically, that he was no longer human.
Catching his own blood in his mouth, he turned his head to Bonnie.
He waited until his wound healed before using his left hand to cradle her face.
This might be the only time I get to kiss her.
The thought wasn't given time to wash over him as he gently pressed his mouth to her parted lips and pushed the stream of his blood into her mouth.
Massaging her throat he helped her to swallow, whispering sweet nothings as she whimpered at the taste. She would soon come to love it.
And me too, he hoped silently.
Then, because it was up to him to save her, he turned her body until her back was against his chest and wrapped his arms around her body; his right hand behind her head and his left hand covering her nose and mouth.
He paused for a second, ready to doubt the sanity of his actions. Briefly, he thought about the fact that he had given her his blood before and she hadn't responded and she might just die and not come back. Fleetingly he gave ear to this notion, but the thought of Bonnie leaving him made him panic and his arms jerked quickly.
He heard the sickening snap that nearly had him doubled over in disgust for himself. He listened as her breathing stopped, felt her body go limp (well limper) in his arms, felt himself go cold.
Quietly, he laid her body on the bed they were sitting on, straightening her hair because he knew she would hate to be disheveled, and took at seat across from her.
He turned in his chair to look once again at the carefully prepared note. He had hunted down some fine paper and an inkwell pen, and in his best calligraphy, he had tried to pen his deepest thoughts for her, cataloging all their history and most of his, where their lives intertwined. He told her everything, he held nothing back.
Returning his gaze to the woman who was Bonnie Bennett, he scratched his finger on the edge of a very fancy stake. He had taken his time to carve it, because well, all he had was time.
In his note he explained that there were a few blood bags scattered around so she wouldn't have to look, and if she woke up and she hated him, she could hunt him down and stake him in the heart with it, he would leave it, and he wouldn't go far.
He also explained that if she didn't wake up, he hoped he could meet her wherever she was going, and if not, well, they would always have 1994.
He would wait until the next eclipse, and if she didn't wake up by then, he would wait one or two more, just in case.
Two weeks later, Stephen and Elena stormed into the boarding house of 1994, they had finally found a way to bring their friends back.
But they would never come back.
In the bedroom that once belonged to the eldest Salvatore brother were the desiccated remains of Damon Salvatore and Bonnie Bennett. Scraped into the wooden wall panels were two phrases each written in a different hand.
The first read: "Damon loves Bonnie", and the second "Bonnie loves Damon back".