This is my first Vampire Diaries story. I don't own any rights to either the books, (L. J. Smith you rock) or the awesome C.W. Show. This is not for profit, just for fun. It's based more from the TV series rather than the books. However since I have read them all, it may contain a mixture of personality traits/ background information for the characters from both genres. I'm a big Bamon fan, ( A Bonnie/Damon shipper) I'm rating this M for mature readers since it will have adult themes and language in it. The time frame is set just after the episode "Fool Me Once". Both Damon and Bonnie are in pain following the events of that night. How will they ever find the strength to carry on ? Can Damon forget about Katherine and her wicked deceit ? With all of the horrible things that he has done over the past one hundred and seventy five years or so, is it too late for him to try to salvage his relationship with his brother Stefan ? Can he change from the bad boy that he is? Should he follow Stefan's lead ? Will he be able to quench his vampire thirst by consuming only animal blood instead of drinking the most powerful blood of all, the human kind. What about temptation of another sort? The sins of the flesh ?, Specifically where Bonnie Bennett, Elena's best friend is concerned...

Now she is a force to be reckoned with. One minute she's all petite curves topped by brown bouncing curls, wrapped up in kitten soft mocha skin with a doe eyed innocence and pretty pink kissable lips... The next, she's a fierce, chanting Wicca Druid Ovate full of molten heat, with flushed cheeks, flashing eyes and bristling energy while she dances around holding a fire ball in her hand. Such a deliciously irresistible enticement. Yes, the beautiful little witch has fascinated Damon since the moment he first saw her use her powers. And her blood,..., Oh her blood !, it is absolutely the sweetest blend that he has ever tasted. That is the problem, he did taste her, only once ? Maybe twice. O.K. Anyway he bit her. Oh heck with it, the truth is he attacked her and she probably would have died if not for Stefan giving her some of his own vampire blood to help her heal. Truly Bonnie is not the type to forgive and forget very easily, indeed, as of this moment, she hates Damon with a passion. It doesn't matter to Bonnie that it was while her body was under possession by Emily, or that Damon had acted out of frustration and despair when Emily broke her contract with him. (sigh) Add Bonnie's grandmother to the list of casualties taken while he waged his misguided war to get Katherine back. Damon's thoughts bombard him as he contemplates this last life wasted to his selfish quest. All of it was due to his stupid, blind devotion to Katherine. The harpy who as it turns out never gave a freaking flip about him, or anyone else but herself. Will Damon allow the darkness to swallow him up or will he fight for a chance to change his destiny? What will Bonnie do next? Will she seek revenge on Damon or will she finally grant him clemency and open up her heart to him? Feeling lost and alone, each one caught up in their own separate sorrows will they miss the tell tale signs of danger that still threatens their friends and family, along with the rest of the inhabitants of Mystic Falls ? Let me know what you think, thanks for reading.

The Price Of Redemption

DPOV- Licking tongues of white hot flames, their edges alternately glowing bright red, orange, yellow and cobalt burned away wildly. They hungrily consumed everything that they touched. Pungent smoke billowed up around his somber face, stinging his eyes, leaving his nose and throat parched and dry. He could taste the acrid flavor of char and ash in his mouth as a harsh cough erupted from his aching chest. The rest of him was still cold and numb. Memories of the last few months flashed in his psyche like a movie clicked on fast forward. Shadows of "Through the looking glass darkly". That made him shiver...

His ensemble cast- Elena, the queen...of Robert E. Lee high school at least. (Who was Katherine's modern day twin and may actually trust him), his brother Stefan the King ?..no that was his piece...Stefan was quite pious and saintly wasn't he ?, more like the bishop, still uncertain and overly cautious. Most of the others have been the pawns that he had used in his calculated game of chess. Let's see there was Caroline Forbes-airhead extraordinair and her mother Elizabeth-the lady of Shallot, er sheriff, Vicki Donovan A.K.A. slut, Lexi- Stefan's B.F.F sniff, sniff, Summer ...something ?, even Elena's sexy but clueless aunt Jenna. Of course there had been the warriors, the bold and brave knights- both black and white. (Because of the iconic game and their auras not their skin tone.) Damon wasn't prejudiced, he'd always been an equal opportunity bloodsucker. Check out this list of losers, Logan Fell, Mayor Lockwood and his son Tyler..howlers both of them. Mr. Tanner and Zach Salvatore- sadly a relative, plus Jeremy Gilbert hmmm? Oh yes, Matt or was it Mutt, he could never remember which, and lastly the mighty slayer Mr. Alaric Saltzman. Countless numbers had just been McPeople, meals on wheels so to speak. And then there were the witches, first Emily Bennett, then her descendents, the most recent of them Sheila and Bonnie...

His dead heart lurched inexplicably, thumping rapidly in response to the image of Bonnie. Like one of Dr. Pavlovs dogs, darn if he wasn't already drooling. Her light floral scent still lingered in the air..How? Was it on his shirt where her hands had accidentally brushed him in passing when he had come stumbling blindly out of the cave?, He refused to admit that his vision had been impaired by swimming tears. Perhaps her perfume still clung to his hair and skin from when he had bent close to her neck and whispered in her ear,

"Sweet dreams little witch, get some rest tonight, because this isn't over between us."

He had been hoping to scare her as she and Sheila were climbing into Bonnie's car, and it had worked. He recalled the way her warm pulse had spiked and jumped beneath his cool lips. He would sell his soul to the next highest bidder, (assuming it wasn't too tarnished to be marketable), if he were able to use more than just his mouth on her, or better still, in her, and he wasn't talking about his fangs. What in the world?...Here he was sooo ready to rub one out while fantasizing about Bonnie Bennett ! How did he ?..No !, he knew how, the question was why? Why did that happen? Shit! His palms were getting sweaty and his stomach felt like he had fifty two ton butterflies flying around inside it. Two ton butterflies, (snort) what was he doing channeling George Bush ? On top of that he had went from being slightly aroused to having a full blown raging hard on in about two point eight seconds. An olympic record breaker for sure, and the zipper of his jeans was digging into it like barbed wire.

Fate,..what an ironic mythical bitch she was. He had zealously battled to resurrect Katherine for so long, and now, knowing that it had all been a fruitless endeavor. Now being forced to realize that she had never needed him to save her, never wanted him, (or Stefan either apparently), to join her in a new life, (or un-life as it were). Now after the fire at the church, and finally the opening of the tomb's door. Now he was going insane! Now the only seal that he wanted to breach was the one keeping Bonnie a virgin ! Now he knew without a doubt he was crazy as a loon, bonkers, schizoid..well beyond his normal skewered self. Was he wheezing? Can vampires have panic attacks? That had to be it, he was being punished for his dirty deeds done dirt cheap. Then like some twisted vision from Dante's Inferno he detected a distant disembodied voice calling out his name, urging him to move away from this point of no return and the hellish heat that was engulfing his body. Was that an acoustic version of Ozzie Osborne singing Shout At The Devil? No that was originally recorded by Motley Crue. This was.. ? No !, An American Idol / Glee rendition!!! A part of him wanted to scream out-loud, to high heaven.... " Somebody, for God's sake please change the channel on that damn satellite radio ! I abhor elevator versions of classic rock! It's sacrilegious to the Gods Of Metal !

What he heard was,

"Damon!, Damon! Wake up, you're having a bad dream!"

, Stefan gently shook his brother's slumping shoulder with concern and asked,

" Don't you think you're sitting just a little bit too close for comfort there?, Come on slide your chair back a few feet and I'll put on another log ."

This said as he softly crooned along with a milksop boy butchering Golden Earring's Twilight zone.

"How appropriate",

Damon snarked to himself raising an eyebrow.

It seemed that he had been so pre-occupied by his deep, dark thoughts that he had fallen asleep and had been leaning perilously far forward, towards the mesmerizing fire. The toes of his black leather boots were very toasty, the soles scorched . Lifting his right foot, he saw a branded indentation mark that matched the welded pattern on the flange of the brass grate that connected to the massive marble fireplace. He frowned and blinked in irritated confusion. His head was throbbing as if he had a bad hang- over and his brain felt totally fried. He fought to throw off the thick wooly blanket of fuzziness that was muddling his mind and formulate one of his usual smart assed replies, always at Stefan's expense of course. Yet when he looked up into his irksomely taller baby brother's face, he could see that Stefan was openly worried about him. Stefan's lanky arms were stretched down, in his right hand he was holding a neat glass of their best bourbon, and in the left three capsules of Elena's extra strength Tylenol. Strangely Damon found that he really couldn't come up with a suitably cruel line. Instead he just accepted the peace offering groaning something about the hair of the dog and downed it in one gulp. Normally they didn't require any human medications or analgesics, but this evening had been far from normal, even for them.

Ah-ha !, He should have quipped, * At least you're not giving me your shortie's Midol, P.M.S. formula. * Next time he promised himself, then he concentrated on getting his leaden leg muscles to work as he tried to glide the heavy, ornately carved antique chair across the oak floor. He vaguely remembered that the wing-back had always been his father's personal favorite. Just like Stefan had been his father's preferent son....No, don't go there, never again. That particular pain was an old wound best left unexamined for the time being. Before, that singly would have been enough of a reason for Damon to happily destroy the chair by reducing it to a dusty pile of shredded damask and splinters. However,..things were going to change, he was different, he was going to change. His knuckles absently stroked the muted fabric of the well preserved original upholstery. Silently he mused that in this century, the blasted thing was probably worth a small fortune, and Stefan was welcome to it. TBC....

BTW-Does anyone else think that this text looks too small? I'm using Neo Office for Mac and had it set to 15, but I think I'll go much bigger with the rest of this story. What font size would you recommend? I couldn't change it with the re-edit tool here on the site, anyone know how? I know...stupid, stupid LOL.