A/N: I'm still really new to fanfic writing and writing longer prose in general, but I really hope you like this. Bamon is my favorite, I wish the show would just give them to us already! Please R&R!
Disclaimer: I disclaim it all! The Vampire Diaries belongs to LJ Smith and the CW.
He poured himself another drink. This was turning out to be a very long afternoon.
"Look, Damon. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
Damon rolled his eyes, staring stubbornly out the window as he threw himself onto the couch. "It seemed pretty clear how you meant it, Elena."
She moved closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. He finally looked at her. "Thank you, okay? I know you were just trying to do what you thought was best for me."
His eyes narrowed, never dropping hers. "What I know is best. You all keep talking like there's some other way for this to go down. Like I'm some kind of worst case scenario. Newsflash, Elena. This is what you are now."
Frustration welled at her throat. He wasn't getting it, he was just going to keep taking it personally. She broke his gaze, looking down at the floor.
She took her hand off of his arm and didn't notice as he barely flinched. Maybe it was better this way, she thought, as a fierce guilt bubbled up beneath her skin. She couldn't appease him and really be true to Stefan at the same time, and she realized that she couldn't keep being the type of person to not be true. Not if she wanted anyone to believe she was better than some depraved monster now. Not if she wanted to believe that herself.
Damon leaned closer to her as she sifted through her thoughts, his hand reaching up to brush her cheek. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. His voice was soft. "I know you. I know what you're feeling and how to deal with it, and you ought to trust me after everything we've been through."
Elena took a slight breath, her decision made. "You clearly don't know me, Damon." She saw his eyes widen as her words hit their mark, but continued. "You keep pushing me to be someone I'm choosing not to be. It's my choice, not yours."
It struck him that he should have said the same thing to her a long time ago. His eyes narrowed again as he bitterly spat, "Of course it is." He stood and stalked out of the library. Once he seemed to be out of earshot, Elena sighed.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Bonnie sat in her living room, alone and listless. She cradled the open book on Aboriginal witches that Professor Shane had loaned her, but she just couldn't seem to focus on it. Every time she tried to read, she found the words grew vague and blurred, until all she could see was the tortured face of her Grams, screaming in pain on the Other Side as dark veins crept up her skin. Bonnie clenched her eyes and shut the book, shaking her head.
It wasn't right.
It was like the tomb spell all over again. She could hate and blame other people, but it was all her fault, and it was all in vain. The tomb vampires still got free, Elena still turned. She'd been so proud, so sure she could fix everything herself. What was the point of having her powers if they didn't help her protect the ones she loved?
The powers were gone now, anyway. Maybe they wouldn't come back. At least then she wouldn't be able to mess it all up anymore.
She stared dully into space, unaware as time passed and the room grew dim.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Damon crouched sullenly at the bar of the Grill, nursing his drink. His eyes flickered to the empty stool next to him but soon stared down into the tumbler again.
He was getting tired of being everybody's whipping boy. How long had these people known him now? How long had he spent, trying to prove his worth to Elena? And still, all any of them saw was some mindless monster, when he was the only one talking any sense around here anymore.
He remembered the witch, her judgy little eyes trained on him, scolding him for doing what anyone with half a brain could see was the only thing to be done. Idiots.
He noticed a figure in the corner of his eye, climbing into the empty bar stool beside him. He didn't even bother to look up. "That seat's taken."
The Hunter snickered. "Look at that, it is."
He groaned inwardly and turned to face the man. "Awesome. What the hell do you want?"
Connor sneered at him, betraying a flash of white teeth. Damon considered that ripping off the man's face might be enough fun to make him forget about his stupid problems.
"I have a proposition," the Hunter began.
"Forget this. Not interested." Damon turned, sliding out of his seat and walking away.
Connor nodded to the bartender as she placed his drink on the bar and moved to serve another patron. "It's almost like you -want- your brother staked, or something." He lifted the glass to his lips.
Damon paused his gait, barely turning back to the man. "Skip ahead to the part where you tell me the point."
Connor smiled into his glass. He set it down on the bar coolly and turned to face the vampire. "You're going to do something for me."
Damon clenched his jaw. "Still waiting for the point, asshole."
"Now, now, let's not get touchy. Oh, and you're going to need your witch."
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Bonnie startled as a persistent knock sounded at the door. How long had she been sitting here?
She stood and walked through the dark room, stepping into the foyer. Faintly lit by the distant street lights, a familiar silhouette loomed on the other side of the front door. Damon, she thought as she flipped the porch light on and unlocked the door.
"What do you want?" She stared at him as she swung the door open.
"The Hunter has Stefan." His eyes were wild, angry.
A dull ache in the pit of her chest seemed to spread, arching through her neck and shoulders. She remembered standing at this very spot just days before, with Stefan's arms enveloped her comfortingly as she cried. He had been the only one of her friends to finally notice the grief that had her paralyzed.
She furrowed her brow and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her. "Where? How do we get him back?"
Damon shook his head. "I don't know where. 3 days, they said. They want us to solve their stupid map," he glowered, whipping a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. "Apparently only a vampire can unlock the top secret vampire-killing witchy woo-woo treasure. Witches are fucking twisted."
Despite an immediate swell of indignation, she found she couldn't really argue with him there, as visions of dark creeping veins flickered at the edge of her sight. Bonnie raised an eyebrow at him. "Wait, who's they?"
"Klaus is helping him." He shrugged. "Strange bedfellows and all that."
The ache spiked into a sharp piercing hurt, tearing through her chest. She grimaced and clenched her eyes shut, reaching her arm blindly towards the door frame for support. The hurt simmered into a hot rage as she remembered the smug indifference of the hybrid as he walked away, while she kneeled over Tyler's unconscious body, her wracking sobs for Grams echoing through the room.
"Hey Judgy, what's wrong with you?" She felt his hand wrapped around her arm, holding her upright.
She opened her eyes, their emerald hue cold and flashing angrily as she stared into his face. "I'm not doing shit for Klaus."
His grip tightened as his fingers dug into her skin. "You're right, you're not. You're not doing shit for me, either. You're doing it for Stefan."
Her eyes softened, but she shook his hand off of her arm. "Why do you need me? I can't do magic."
He clenched his jaw, and the ice in his eyes focused desperately on her. She was reminded of a time not so long ago (but it seemed -so- long ago) when Stefan stood before her and said, He's my brother, before diving into spiraling flames.
"Yeah, you're going to have to get over that. Let's go, there's no time." His hand clasped around her wrist, and she allowed him to drag her to the familiar blue Camaro.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
When he finally admitted that their trip would take them all the way to Atlanta, she had demanded he take her back home so she could at least pack.
"There is no way I'm wasting my time waiting for you to get your girly crap together." He rolled his eyes.
She glared at him. "Then you're buying me anything I need, Damon."
He shrugged. "Whatever, Bonnie."
She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the seat, losing herself in the feeling of the wind as it roared past her ears, the passing streetlights muting the stars that hung lazily over them.
This was weird. She was on some bizarre road trip with a vampire. And Damon, of all vampires. Reckless, careless, selfish Damon. She bristled, remembering the night of the frat party, the blood dripping down his face grotesquely on the dark dance floor as Elena rushed past her to get outside.
His words that night had been for Elena's benefit, but she knew he wasn't thinking about Elena when he glared at the witch and told her about the only way to cope with the guilt. He was talking about himself.
She had to admit that they had grown into a begrudging mutual respect for each other since the day he showed up in Mystic Falls and turned everything upside down. It was a far cry from their beginning, when he inspired nothing but fear and hatred in her. Sometimes she'd even felt like, despite the biting remarks they bandied back and forth, he actually had some understanding of her that the others didn't. This of course made him even more dangerous.
But remorse was the last thing she expected Damon Salvatore to confess to, least of all to her.
He was talking. "What?" she asked, leaning away from the rushing air.
"I said, how do we get your juju going again?" he said.
The witch frowned. "I don't know. I can't even cast simple enchantments." She stared down at her hands in her lap. She felt exposed by the admission, always careful to protect herself around the vampire. Still, there wasn't much point in waiting to let him find out when they needed her magic and she was useless.
Damon glanced over to her, tense crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.
"Atticus." She looked up at him as the name slipped past her lips. His expression was strange, but she continued. "He said he could teach me other ways of performing magic. Maybe he'll know something."
"You want to ask Professor Babyface for help?" He looked unconvinced.
She glared at him, irritated. "You know his name. Have you got a better idea?"
He shrugged and turned back to the road, his lip curling into a sneer. He turned up the volume of the music, and Julian Casablancas' gritty voice blared to life as they sped towards Whitmore College.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
She heard Damon grumbling behind her.
"Bonnie? What are you doing here?" Professor Shane looked confused, standing at his front door in his cotton pajama pants, sleep ringing the dark-lashed rims of his eyes.
"I'm really sorry to bother you at home, and at this hour... but it's urgent." Her eyes were apologetic as they traced over the defined muscles of his bare torso. Apologetic and enthralled.
Damon's mutterings struck up anew.
"This is my friend Damon." She tried to smile, the corners of her mouth pulling tightly.
"Of course... of course, I'm sorry, please." He stepped aside, allowing Bonnie to walk through the door and into the house. Damon strode forward to the edge of the entryway and waited.
Atticus Shane's eyes settled on Damon's face, and the ghost of a smirk flickered over the professor's lips. He nodded. "Please do come in, Damon."
The vampire rolled his eyes and walked through the door.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
The professor pulled a thin white shirt over his frame as he joined Bonnie and Damon in the tidy living room. She noticed it was nothing like the cluttered college office from the other day, which had been stuffed with artifacts and treasures and history. The room was simple, neat, and seemingly unlived in.
Atticus smiled sheepishly as he saw her looking around the room. "You'll have to excuse the place, I don't spend much time away from the school."
She shook her head kindly. She was sitting at the edge of the sofa, her elbows resting on her knees. She glanced up at Damon, who paced before the nearby window like some trapped animal.
Atticus sat in the adjacent armchair with his back facing Damon. He leaned forward to place a hand on the witch's knee. "So tell me what's so urgent."
She inhaled as she began to speak. "You told me that there were other ways to draw power. Other ways to perform magic."
He nodded, waiting for her to continue. Damon leaned against the window sill, his arms crossed.
"Can you teach me?"
He studied her face. "You woke me for a magic lesson?"
Her mouth twisted uncomfortably. "We're on a deadline."
Atticus smiled, and she felt some of the tension collected between her shoulder blades slip away. "What can I say, Bonnie? I live to serve."
Damon rolled his eyes heavily from his place behind the professor's back.
"Actually, your vampire friend back there would make for a good case-study." Bonnie lifted her eyebrows in alarm, but Atticus shook his head and lifted his hands before himself defensively. "I did tell you I'm a true believer."
Damon didn't move from his spot at the window, the back of his leather jacket pressed against the glass with a studied nonchalance. Bonnie nodded to Atticus.
"With the hostile relationship between most witches and vampires, blood sharing is a resource that often goes untapped," the professor began.
It was Damon's turn to raise his eyebrows at him. "That's your fancy lesson plan? A blood bond?"
Bonnie glanced from one man to the other, confused by the tension crackling between them. "What does that mean?"
Atticus cleared his throat and leaned back in the armchair. "When a vampire feeds, it isn't just about the blood. It's about the life force... the power, essentially. The same is true when a human drinks vampire blood. They ingest some of the vampire's essence, their power, which is why we see side effects like healing and enhanced senses in humans who drink enough."
"When the human half of the blood bond is a witch, the effect is even more striking because a witch has the ability to manipulate that power in ways an ordinary human couldn't. In ways even a vampire couldn't. And if enough blood is exchanged, it forms a sort of feedback loop, amplifying the powers of both."
Bonnie's eyes flickered from the professor's serene face to the agitated face of the vampire behind him. How strange that Damon who smugly relished every kind of vulgarity looked almost... embarrassed? It made her sort of hesitant.
"What if my powers are gone? Would it still work?"
Atticus leaned forward again and took Bonnie's hand in his own. "You are a far stronger witch than you realize. Your powers aren't gone, Bonnie."
She felt a blush creeping up her neck as he continued. "You've blocked yourself from them, and only you can figure out why that is and how to fix it, but the power is still there. Tapping into the ancient reserves of a vampire would just open up new worlds of magic for you."
Bonnie pulled her hand gently from his grasp. "What do I have to do?"
He smiled. "Well, if Damon would just - "
"No. No way." Damon interrupted. "We're done. Come on, witchy." He stalked over to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet and towards the entryway.
Bonnie glanced back at the professor as if to apologize. He nodded to her silently in return.
The vampire and the witch disappeared through the front door, and it crashed shut behind them. Professor Shane pulled his cell phone from his pocket, typing a short line of text.
It worked, you were right. You just needed to apply the right kind of pressure.
He smiled to himself as he tapped send.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
As they reached the car, Bonnie wrenched her hand from Damon's grasp. "What the hell was that?"
"There is no way we're letting Professor Pervert talk us into a kinky blood orgy in his living room," he muttered. He yanked the passenger-side door open, causing the car to shudder as he waited for her to climb in.
She stopped, her hand clutching the edge of the door. "Blood orgy?" She stared up at him, one eyebrow raised. "Anyway, since when is that not right up your alley?"
"Blood exchange is... it's personal," he practically hissed. He slammed the door as soon as she was settled into her seat.
He walked around and climbed into the driver's seat, and the Camaro rumbled noisily as they peeled away.
They rode in silence, both lost in their thoughts.
Damon was remembering the feeling of Elena's body pressed against him as she hungrily drew the blood from his body. His free hand had twined into her hair as he stumbled back against the wall, pleasure weakening his legs. You clearly don't know me, Damon. He frowned as the brunette's words from that afternoon interrupted the memory, dashing his bliss away.
His foot pushed down harder on the gas pedal, and the car revved faithfully in response.
Bonnie glanced at Damon, his obvious irritation compounding her own. Did he want to save his brother or not?
After all, she wasn't exactly fond of the idea of swapping bodily fluids with him either. She cringed to imagine his teeth ripping into her throat as they had the night Emily had possessed her to destroy the crystal talisman.
But this was Stefan. Stefan who protected everyone selflessly, who sacrificed everything to save the ones he loved. She understood the significance of that sacrifice more than anyone else. If there was a way for her to help him, she had to exhaust every possibility. If there was one thing Bonnie knew about herself beyond any measure of doubt, it was that she couldn't live with doing anything less than that.
She felt her eyelids droop and noticed the clock. 1:45. She tilted her head to the side until it rested on the edge of the seat, drifting to sleep.
Damon glanced at Bonnie and turned the volume of the music down.
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Bonnie stepped out of the hotel bathroom, feeling self-conscious. Damon's black button down shirt reached halfway down her thighs. This was ridiculous, he should have just let her pack. She stared at her reflection over the bar and sighed. Whatever, it would be fine for one night, she told herself. Only for half a night now, even.
She turned to see the vampire sitting by the curtained window with his feet up on the table, lost in thought. Damon seemed completely unfazed by no longer having use of his shirt. He took a swig from one of the bottles that had stocked the room's bar.
Without a word, he swung his feet off the table and strode into the bathroom, closing the door.
Bonnie heard the shower running and sat on the edge of one of the beds, smiling as she sank into its fluffy depths. She hadn't asked how Damon had managed to wrangle a room in such a nice hotel at such an hour of the night, but then again she didn't really need to ask. She shook her head.
Atticus' words echoed in her ears. She still had her power. Could he know that for sure?
She lifted one hand to shoulder level, curling her fingers over her palm. Flicking her hand open, she focused intently on the flame that she expected to appear. Nothing happened.
She slumped forward wearily.
It was strange. The moment she knew she trusted Stefan was not a grand moment. True, in the beginning it was the sweeping moments that had slowly added up to seal her confidence in him, like watching him dive into a dark tomb to save her best friend with no promise of escape. But then the tomb spell failed and bitterness compounded on grief, and the fragile web of her trust shattered.
The moment she finally saw her own righteous heart reflected back in him was the night he orchestrated the girls' slumber party to support Caroline after the blonde had been kidnapped by werewolves. He had recognized her friend's pain, validated its devastating power, and did what was needed to alleviate it. These were not the selfish actions of a monster, and that seemingly simple gesture had opened her eyes in ways she never expected. It helped her to discern the pulsing humanity that remained in him, and in Caroline.
Damon sauntered out of the bathroom in his boxer briefs, ruffling a towel through his wet hair.
Bonnie rolled her eyes at his complete lack of shame, but she had already made her decision. "Damon, if there's something I can do to help Stefan, I have to do it."
Damon's shoulders tensed as he dropped the towel on the bar top. His voice was quiet, dangerous. "Don't you think I would too?"
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at his back. "Then what's the probl - "
"Do you trust me?" He spun around to face her. The strange crinkles began to form at the corners of his eyes once more as he studied her.
She blinked. Did she trust Damon Salvatore? The man who put everyone she loved in danger? The man who placed seemingly no value on human life except when it had been Elena's?
She remembered this look, though. The wild, intense eyes staring into her own like nothing else mattered. At the 60s dance, he had asked her if she was still willing to do whatever it took to kill Klaus, but in essence he had been asking the same question back then. Did she trust him?
She realized she was nodding.
"I trust you to do whatever it takes to protect the people you care about."
His jaw shifted as he considered her answer, but he seemed satisfied by it.
She stood, smoothing the edge of the shirt over her thighs. Walking to the writing desk in the corner, she lifted a filigreed silver envelope opener from its surface. She turned back to him, wincing as the sharp tip dragged across the side of her neck. A warm trickle slid down her skin, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest.
"Do it." She stared at him, and he saw the challenge in her eyes.
His own eyes had darkened, his nostrils flaring as the scent of her blood rushed through him. In less than a moment he was beside her, one hand snarled in her hair as the other wrapped around her waist. His canines were extended, and he looked at her questioningly.
She nodded to him, craning her neck to expose the trailing blood. As he leaned down she nervously clenched her eyes shut, anticipating the bite.
But this was nothing like that night in the woods. She gasped as his fangs broke her skin, yet his tongue lingered soothingly over the cut she had made. Soon the pain was forgotten as he coaxed her blood from her, and she found herself floating on the strangest sensation, as if her mind was bathed in light.
It was a dazed euphoria, and she felt at once disoriented and at peace. Her fingers dragged through his damp hair.
Fear again fluttered in her chest as weakness overtook her when he pulled away, but he guided her to sit on the bed once more. He sat beside her and sank his fangs into his own wrist. He held it up to her.
She looked at him, uncertain. She hadn't really considered this part. His features were soft as he barely nodded to her.
She leaned forward and closed her eyes, surprised at the heat of the sanguine liquid against her lips. The tip of her tongue ran along the jagged tears in his skin, and she felt his eyes on her. She couldn't decide what it tasted like, that metallic whisper making its way down her throat. It just felt like... electricity. She pressed her lips against the wound before it could heal, using her hands to hold his wrist closer.
As she began to draw more blood from him, she felt his other arm wrapping around her and pulling her against his body, his fingertips caressing up and down her spine through the fabric of his shirt.
Each gulp was a new wave of energy, her weakness quickly fading away. Her body was enveloped in an intoxicating fullness as his power seemed to seep through every inch of her body. Everything was alive with sensation and strength, and she was certain that if she opened her eyes she would find herself glowing. A low moan escaped her lips, muffled against his arm.
She was a touch disturbed at how much loss she felt as he finally nudged his wrist away.
His arm was still around her, and when she looked up at him his icy blue eyes gazed back. "How is your neck?" he asked quietly.
She raised her hand to feel the skin at the curve of her neck and found it completely intact. "I - I'm fine."
"And your magic?"
Bonnie drew her hand away from her neck, extending her arm past Damon's shoulder. The towel on the bar burst into flames.
He grinned, and she had to laugh.