Note: Just a small two/maybe three shot because I was in the mood (damn that holiday spirit). Enjoy and Happy Easter everybody!
Pairing: Kol/Bonnie
Disclaimer: I only own the plot. The lyrics in this chapter are from Demons by Imagine Dragons.
Information: AU from the fourth season finale.
English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistake in advance.
|Dust on Every Page.|
by Schlangenkind
|| Part One: Made of Greed ||
Expression is the manifestation of your will. You could do anything.
— Sheila Bennett
When your dreams all fail
She looks him in the eye even though she shouldn't and she doesn't regret it even as she sees the realization dawning on his face. Maybe he reads the truth in the tears she isn't allowed to cry or in the way her fists are clenched so tightly by her side her knuckles are turning white in an effort to hold herself together. It doesn't really matter how, she supposes. All that matters is that he knows.
She is not going to let him go back.
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
There is a flash of pure rage, the first glimmer of fear quickly overwhelmed by a strong sense of betrayal. She admires his emotions, wild and untamed and terrifyingly alive like everything else about him, and perhaps that's what makes her fear him even more. Because even in death his flame burns brightly like a beacon light meant to be seen for miles to no end and she can't help but feel drawn to him. Can't help but be impressed by the strength of his mere presence no matter how dark his soul may be.
For as long as she has known him he has done nothing but antagonize her, frustrate her, threaten, trick and challenge her. Never has he shown her any weakness but more importantly never has he allowed her to be weak. He has always been there, watching her and waiting for her to stumble so he can use her mistakes against her. And though Bonnie won't—can't—admit it outright his presence is the one thing that has forced her to keep going, to keep fighting because defeat has never been an option.
He has been reliable, not because he isn't dangerous but because she knows his agenda. He has never made a secret out of what he wants from her after all. He's a lot more likely to threaten her life, the lives of her friends and even the entire town with one of his crazy, improvised schemes that will definitely blow up in somebody's face—it's always just a matter of whom. Subtle isn't exactly Kol's style.
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
Her breath becomes labored as she watches his façade crumble in front of her and it shocks her how deep his wounded look truly strikes her. She flinches back instinctively, trying to shield herself from him or perhaps from herself. She doesn't remember when she started protecting herself with the same mask she has seen on her enemy's face every day but then lately she doesn't seem to remember a lot of things.
There is a horrified desperation in his eyes and she finds herself unable to look away, captivated by the way the raw emotion twists his face into an alien grimace—an expression she recognizes. An expression she has seen before.
And suddenly she doesn't see him anymore. She sees his older brother and the pained, blue eyes that have haunted her in her nightmares far more often than she cares to admit. Sees a broken man forced to watch his younger sibling being killed, murdered in cold blood by an enemy nobody had expected to strike. Unable to do anything. Unable to help. Unable to take back meaningless words spoken in anger and ignorance. Unable to make up for too much lost time.
More than anything she sees herself. Sees herself clearly for perhaps the first time since she has first met Professor Shane. She sees the woman she has become. A woman willing to torture her own mother. A woman blinded by her anger towards friends and enemies alike. A woman that doesn't hesitate to lock a grieving man into a house with the body of his recently deceased brother.
She wants to laugh out loud but the sound gets lost somewhere in her throat and her eyes are burning with unshed tears.
He isn't even surprised. The realization is almost unbearable. He always knew. He never expected me to help him.
Tears are blurring her vision suddenly because really what has happened to her, to them, to everything she once believed in? When in her desperate quest to destroy the demons that have controlled her for so long has she become the monster she once despised? When has she become the villain of the story, the one who's word can't be trusted and who's intent has to be always questioned? And why can't she stop, not even now as her head finally clears for the first time in months and everything she does tears her further apart from the inside out?
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
She backs away from him, the distance between them suddenly far too small for her comfort, and there is the soft, tickling sensation on her fingertips she always feels when she reaches out towards the power inside her. She isn't sure what she's going to do but the call for her magic feels natural and the familiar rush is all the encouragement she needs. Closing her eyes she concentrates on drawing more and more power from her surroundings until she feels the hair on the back of her neck standing up, hears the musical humming of the energy in the air surrounding her.
A small voice in the back of her head tells her to stop—or perhaps that's Kol shouting at her—but she doesn't. She can't. She won't.
Instead she allows the air to heat up until it thickens around her like a comfortable blanket wrapped a bit too tight around her body. The tickling vibe spreads across her arms and legs until it centers around her chest and turns into a oppressive and definitely uncomfortable ache. Her heart beats erratically against her rib cage and she can almost feel the blood rushing through her veins beginning to slow down, slower and slower and too slow, as it agglutinates faster than ever before.
Sickening black lines appear on her fingertips like grotesque viral tattoos that quickly spread along her hands and arms into the direction of her heart. She watches them transfixed but at the same time strangely detached even as the needling pain on the inside of her temple gains intensity. There's a curious beauty in self-destructive power, she thinks before a new wave of simple pain blocks any rational thought she might have left at this point.
The world shifts in and out of focus for a moment and perhaps she sways or perhaps the earth gives out beneath her feet as every cell of her body screams in pain. What must have been blood once feels now like liquid fire burning her body from the inside out as breathing becomes impossible and all there's left to swallow is her own blood.
But she doesn't stop. It is still not enough. Until it is.
Your eyes, they shine so bright
She blinks the tears away, almost instinctively searching him out in this chaotic world that fades from reality far too quickly. Somehow she finds the strength to hold his gaze—just for a moment—as the ground shakes and dust dances in the air and the walls around them crumble like a lovingly crafted sand castle in the face of the unforgiving flood. He screams uselessly against the noise, trying desperately to reach out to her, perhaps —probably— in a vain attempt to snap her neck and end this horror story once and for all but he can't reach her and she can't hear him and she likes to believe she is glad she doesn't.
It needs to be done.
She doesn't avert her eyes although she knows it would make this easier and she opens her mouth to tell him—just this once because it won't matter now (even though they both know it does)—but all her body manages is a wordless sound of anguish as her heart struggles to take another beat.
I am sorry.
I want to save their light
Then as suddenly as the mayhem erupted everything stills again. For a brief moment it is silent as though the world itself is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the enemy to attack, for the tiger to jump. She looks at him, her gaze tracing his familiar features, the slight tilt of his chin that gives him a cocky air even now, as her arms shake from the effort of holding all the power —too much power— in and building it up just a little bit more and strangely his arrogance in the face of certain destruction makes her want to smile.
So she does.
(Allows herself this last, small gesture. Allows herself a moment of contemplation. Allows herself to regret. Allows herself to wish.)
I want.
Then she lets go.
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how
The second part will be up tomorrow or on Monday at the latest. I hope you like it!
Love, Schlange