Tell me how it is.

Regression

The act of regressing.

Movement backwards to a previous and especially worse or more primitive state or condition.

Damon wasn't sure if this was what someone would call what happened to her, but he supposed the word fit. Sort of, anyway.

Another giggle filled the decrepit room, contrasting sharply against the molded, soggy, gray wood and decomposing debris which he assumed once was furniture.

His tired blue eyes crept around the room, which was only lit by a quickly disappearing sun through a shattered window frame behind him. He searched for her, to tired to use his senses to locate her heart beat and work through the smell of mildew to find her scent. He needed his rest and some 'food' quickly, because he hated not having all of his senses trained on her.

"Bonnie," he called out softly but firm, making sure she understood that he wasn't in the mood for playing. "Come out, we don't have time to play. You have to eat and get to bed, we're leaving tomorrow."

His demand was met with silence and he could imagine the pout that was sure on her face. He waited. Found the little patience he had left and ignored the pain racing up and down his exhausted body.

Finally, from the corner of his eyes he saw her step forward from her hiding space in a closet he hadn't even noticed before. Bonnie. His best friend stood before him dressed in an over sized coat and baggy green pants. She had dusty, white sneakers on her feet and her slightly longer hair was in a hazardous bun he had placed on top of her head that morning to keep her hair out of her eyes. Long, dark strands were already escaping it and hanging in front of her dirt smudged face. Other then her dirty appearance she looked the same as she always did, but he knew better. He knew she wasn't the same at all.

"Why do we have to left again, Damon?" She was indeed pouting and clearly whining. "We just got here."

"First of all, its why do we have to 'leave' again, Damon." He corrected her as he moved towards her, arms crossed. "And what did I tell you about whining?"

She frowned at him. "That if I whine you would tape my mouth shut." She crossed her arms and met his gaze in a way which almost tricked him into believing she was herself again. She rolled her eyes. "You never do though, Damon" She looked close to stomping her foot. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here. This house is big and they have jar peaches in the basement, Damon. I like those."

Damon's stomach pinched with hunger pains.

"Upstairs, now," he pointed at the stairwell behind her, "do as I say, Bonnie. Now." He shouted.

Bonnie flinched and her green eyes widened. He cursed silently when they filled with tears. He hadn't meant to yell her her. He was just so hungry and she had been in the mood to play hide and seek all day, and he hated that damn game.

He hated having to look for her when he didn't really know where she was because his senses were all out of whack.

He wasn't surprised when she turned away from him and bolted upstairs.

Damon arms fell down to his side as she looked towards the water damaged ceiling and sighed. He gave himself a moment before he followed Bonnie up the stairs and into the room they had been sharing.

He found her there curled up on her place in the corner, wrapped up in her fraying blanket, her whole face hidden. Damon stood in the doorway for a moment and just watched the lump shift with every breath the young woman took.

He took a step into the room, the floor board underneath him creaking.

"I'm not hungry." Her words were muffled and wet. "I just go to sleep. Good night, Damon."

"We're taking the peaches with us, Bonbon." He told her. "And we'll find a better place."

He headed towards the green bag which sat on top of his folded blanket in the corner opposite of Bonnie's. He flipped the top open and began searching through their sparse items.

"But why do we have to leave so much?" She questioned after a moment.

Damon fought off the sinking feeling he felt as he pulled out the last, dented canned good they had. He told himself they still had the peaches and they could always search for more.

He glanced over his shoulder at Bonnie as he pulled out the can opener. "You know why." He told her simply as he worked on removing the top of the can. He watched Bonnie shifted nervously underneath her blanket and hug herself out of the corner of his eye.

"The monsters." She whispered it as if it was a bad word.

Damon got the top of the can off and stuck a semi-clean plastic spoon into the mystery beans and headed over to Bonnie. She stared at him wide eyed as he handed her the meal. "All of it," he demanded.

Bonnie didn't make a fuss as she normally would about eating the cold beans instead of peaches as she looked out of the broken window behind him, eyes shimmering with fear. She took the can.

"Are they out there."

He settled down in front of her on the floor, bones aching. He had to made sure she ate. "They're always out there, Bon."

Her eyes darted to him briefly before returning to the window. "I mean, out there, out there." She whispered, voice high with panic.

"As in right now?" He lightly poked her nose and rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly. If they were out there, we wouldn't be in here."

They would be running, as far as they could get from the creatures.

The creatures.

Something happened and the world discovered that the Original vampires weren't the first vampires in existence after all. No, there had been something more natural and much older hidden away and sleeping until one day something woke them up.

They were ancient creature like vampires in the fact they drank human blood. They were strong as well, much strong then any vampire in existence before there awakening. They were like vampires, just stronger, quicker, meaner and immune to magic.

When they woke up they decided they wanted to take the world back, because apparently it had once belonged to them. The vampires created by a witch seemed to amuse and insult them simultaneously and as a result there was a mass extraction of all vampires born from a witch's magic.

As for as Damon knew, he was the only Witch's vampire still alive, except for Elijah and obviously Klaus, somewhere somehow, for now. But, he had seen Elijah since everything had happened a little over two years ago, he had seen him on TV. The creatures like tv and had a slew of programs to be enjoyed by and for their kind and other programs designed to brainwash their human slaves.

He had seen Elijah when his desperation had led him to wonder into one of the towns in search of food for Bonnie. The town had been a mix of the creatures and human blood slaves, so he hoped he would blend in somehow.

In the town square there had been a large television that was strung up underneath the town's broken clock. He had been rushing through the crowd, with his hood snug over his head when he had happened to look up and see him.

Elijah, the usually dapper dressed vampire was shirtless and being led around by a diamond studded leash. On the other end, holding the leash, was one of the oldest creatures, one of the big dogs. A red haired girl who looked barely fifteen years old. But Damon knew better, he knew the creature was anything but a normal fifteen year old. Rumor was she was the most demented and curl of all of them.

He assumed Klaus was being kept as some sort of pet as Elijah was.

Damon didn't know much about the creatures except of that they hated the Witch's vampires and that they aged and could procreate unlike them. He knew that because the so-called governor in-charge of the half of the country had a pregnant wife, he had always seen that on tv.

He always knew that they killed any witch's vampire they came across and enslaved humans. He knew they saw witches as a none threat and considered them human with tasty, sought after blood. Werewolves seemed to be their natural enemy. Hence was the reason they were on the run.

"Damon, you did it again." He came out of his musing to find Bonnie staring at his face, her face just inches away. "You're sleeping while your awake." she accused. She had brown sauce all around her face and her nose was running as she chewed.

Damon snorted in amusement even though his stomach twisted with worry about just how different Bonnie was. He couldn't tell you what happened. He honestly didn't know. He took the end of his dusty, black sleeve and wiped everything that was on her face that wasn't suppose to be there except for the dirt. That would take a lot of water and soap, both of which they had none of.

"Are you finished?" He asked and eyed her can.

Bonnie made a face and swallowed what was in her mouth. "I am." He gave her a skeptical look. She huffed, dug her spoon into the can and pulled out a spoon full and shoved it into her mouth.

She showed him the now empty can as she chewed up what was left. "Good," he plucked the can out of her and and placed it beside him. "Bed," he commanded and pointed at the matt of blankets.

Bonnie obeyed him, she usually did unless it was about eating beans. She settled underneath her blankets and looked up at him, expectantly.

Damon was always unsure what to do at the moment when he told her to go to bed and he would linger at her side. But eventually, he did what he always did, and brushed strands of hair form her face, "good night," he mumbled and started to move away.

"You never eat, Damon." She observed sleepily before he could get away. "Its because you drink blood, like the monsters, right?"

Damon froze before turning slightly as she gazed down at Bonnie. He had never told her that, that he drank blood. He studied her half-lidded eyes. "Does that make me a monster?" He asked even though he had other questions.

She scrunched up her face. "No, you're just Damon."