(originally posted on tumblr.)
loveless love
"You can't die," she says flatly, holding the wet cloth against his burning forehead. Her expression is devoid of feeling, but through the blur of fever, he can see that small crease between her eyes, the crease she gets when things become too difficult to contain. She dabs the cloth all over his face, her palm scratching the stubble-turned-beard of his chin, brushing against his warm lips by accident.
He groans and tries to raise his hand towards her. Bonnie sets it down gently. His fingers twist around her wrist. She tries to wrench her hand away, but he won't let her.
"Don't – let – go," he pants. His eyes are wild, seeking her out in the dark, begging her to stay with him. He is clinging to her like a child.
"Don't let go," he repeats achingly.
Bonnie shushes him sternly. She wipes his throat, the skin of which is still raw and pink from the teeth and the punctures.
"You've lost a lot of blood. They almost depleted you," she explains matter-of-factly, letting her hand rest in his palm.
He thinks he hears her whisper "greedy bastards", but Bonnie doesn't give anything away.
"I'm trying to heal you, but your magic has been weakened. It won't cooperate," she goes on, reaching to the nightstand for a glass of water.
She is suddenly grabbing him by the waist. His heart stutters and stops. His whole body hurts. She lifts him up towards her and dips his head towards the glass. He drinks absently, staring at her eyes and the way they catch the candle light and break it down until there's nothing left of it.
"I think I'll have to use Expression," she mutters more to herself.
She wipes the water that dribbled down his chin and sets him back down. Kai hasn't let go of her hand. He tightens his hold. "B-Bonnie…"
"If the water tastes funny, it's just some herbs I found around the house. They should help. Don't struggle too much. You have to rest."
Her tone is even and her eyes keep biting into the light, shrinking it, turning it inside out. She is cold and detached, but her palm is warm. He holds onto that.
"The rippers…" he whispers with fear, reverence and disdain, because they fractured his perfect self. They reduced him to this.
Bonnie is about to open her mouth when he grips her fingers and says fervidly, "You're – not – safe – here."
She stops, looks at him with faint surprise and tries to calm him once more, but the crease between her eyes grows bigger. She doesn't know how to take his words. She keeps waiting for him to remember, to realize why he is here, why he was attacked. She keeps waiting for the anger and the accusations.
"Bonnie – you need to go," he rasps again heavily.
"Kai." Her voice doesn't tremble, but it's an octave higher than it should be. "I am going. We're both going."
"N-no. You have to go now."
It must be the fever that has warped his mind so thoroughly. If he were of sound judgment right now, he would make sure he got a ride back home. He is a survivor, second only to Katherine in resourcefulness.
"Take it easy, we'll leave in a couple of hours," she assures him.
"No, you – you don't understand. They're fast. And strong. They'll – catch you too. Can't – can't allow it," he wheezes out, nearly losing his breath.
She presses a hand to his chest, her eyes growing wider. The crease is a deep, long line that looks like an exclamation point.
"Kai, calm down, you're making it worse."
"Bonnie – can't allow them to hurt you. Aah, fuck – just go! Go," he winces, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep, haggard breath. He fights every instinct inside of him, every instinct that tells him he must stay with her, and lets go of her hand.
He tries to push her away.
Bonnie is too shocked to fight it. She sits numbly for several moments, watching him struggle out of bed, away from her. He is putting up a good fight. You'd almost think he got his strength back.
Reality catches up with her. She pushes him swiftly back down on the bed and wraps the blankets around him so he can't move. He moans, disgruntled. She takes both his hands in hers and shakes him hard.
"Listen to me, Kai. We're safe. I managed to throw them out of the house and I put a charm around the place. A strong one. As long as we're inside, we're protected. They can't touch you.Us. Okay? You don't need to worry about that."
He doesn't register her words at first, so she has to repeat them several times. At length, he stops struggling.
Bonnie feels a cold warmth in her body. It's strange and impossible. She is removed from the scene, observing his pain with the aloofness of a medical practitioner. But she is engaged, completely involved in his pain, all the same. Cold and warm. She wants to gather him up and hold him to her, but she also wants to erect a wall of spikes between them. She has never felt this kind of sickness before. His words, his struggle, they make her ill. He cares about her in a reckless, absurd way and she has a knee-jerk reaction to it. To care back.
"Why?" he groans, surveying her face with bemused irritation. "Why are you doing this?"
"You can't die," she repeats monotonously. It does not come out like a solitary, indifferent sentence. It's burning, wrapped up in layers of pain, just like he is.
"Jo and her baby," she adds perfunctorily. "And Liv. And your dad, although he's at the bottom of the list. But you can't die. You have to live for them."
Kai lets out a strangled cough, but it comes out more like a scoff, a bitter chuckle.
"Karma is – ironic. Have to save the people on – my killing list."
Bonnie looks unimpressed. She purses her lips and dabs at his hot skin with the wet cloth. It's grown warm. She has to soak it.
"Or I could – kill them by dying," he argued feverishly. "That's a win-win."
Bonnie rolls her eyes. She bends down and dips the cloth in the pail at the foot of the bed. Pieces of ice still float on the surface of the water.
When she puts the cold cloth against his forehead he moans in relief.
"You'll live. You just have to fight a bit. Get your magic working."
"I like the other plan. Me, dying. Screwing – everyone in the – process. Except you."
Bonnie tenses. The warmth and the cold are battling inside of her, seizing territory at random. She looks at his ugly, handsome face. There's never been a better-looking rotten soul. He's writing them all off, his entire flesh-and-blood. He doesn't care about killing an unborn child.
"You'll be happy. You'll be – okay."
But he cares about her.
Bonnie feels sick and lightheaded.
"Stop talking like that."
"It's the truth. We'd be – even."
"You didn't kill me," she points out, her breath coming up short.
"You almost died – because of me anyway. And like you said – I can't stop myself. I'll hurt you – again."
Bonnie lets her palm linger against his cheek. The wet cloth is soggy, warm again. She isn't aware of what she is doing, but the adrenaline of the day hasn't worn off yet. She's battled several rippers. Used up a lot of magic. She's exhausted, on edge, eerily calm. She caresses his cheek.
"I want them – to suffer," he rasps, leaning into her touch. "I want you to – be happy. The only way I can have both is…" He makes a hatchet sound, like a blade falling across his neck.
She shudders once uncontrollably. Then, her body is still.
"Stop it. I'm doing everything I can to heal you. Are you listening? Work with me, Kai. Let the magic come back."
"I'd rather – not. But hey…you make a cute nurse," he mutters smugly, as if he's succeeded in annoying her one last time. He cracks a smirk that never reaches his eyes. He lets his head fall back on the pillow.
God, she can't allow this. She can't. She's greedy, like the rippers.
Bonnie grips his temples with both her hands and pries his eyes open. He is flooded by her, by her magic and her smell. Her despair is now visible, because the crease between her eyes has vanished completely. She is not containing those difficult things anymore. She is setting them loose, whatever they are.
"I won't be happy. You want me to be happy. I won't."
Kai think he's probably waited for someone to say that to him since he was born, but the moment is anticlimactic. He can't savor it, he can't even feel it. All he knows is that he wants to run his fingers across the ridges of her back, feel the harsh bones under his hand, bring her close and cradle her head into his neck. They could fall asleep like that, tangled in the feverish blankets. The snow would fall outside the window, her heart would beat in time with his breathing, and that would be enough.
"I want you – to be happy," he repeated bluntly.
"Then don't die. Don't die on me. If you die, everything was in vain. Everything I've been through. I'll go insane."
Kai is stuck on her last words. I'll go insane. I'll go insane. I'll go insane.
"Don't do that," he says dumbly. "One of us – should stay sane."
A manic smile cracks through her lips, but it looks like a grimace.
"Bonnie. You shouldn't –" he starts, unsure of what he means to say. You shouldn't care? You shouldn't give a flying fuck? You shouldn't even bother?
He doesn't know if it's Luke self-sabotaging him, or himself, that part of him that has always known she is the sun to his gaping black hole.
"I know. I know. But I do. I need you," she stammers out in self-hatred. She leans forward and brushes the hair which has fallen into his eyes.
He might love her. It might be the fever. But he feels for her an immense gulf of empathy, and the nature of this empathy is absurd, because it has no basis in real life. It was born out of nothing. There was never any reason for him to reach into his clinical self and invent it.
Maybe that's what love is. There's a black hole. And then somehow, there's light.
A psychopath has fabricated loveless love.
Yet, there is a burst of joy in all of it, because she might – reciprocate.
Not in any way comparable to what his feelings. But she keeps brushing the hair from his eyes long after the gesture has become futile.
I need you.
And slowly, he wants to live.