Hello out there, this is my first fic. Just a little idea that wouldn't go away. Read and review.
Broken
Because I'm broken when I'm open
And I don't feel like I am strong enough
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
You've gone away, you don't feel me here anymore
Bonnie notices that Ric still shakes and shivers. He emphasizes his words in a way that is wholly history teacher Mr. Alaric Saltzman and less the body controlled by the vampire who wanted to kill her. It's like he's trying to convince not only them, but himself that things are back to normal. His eyes are soft and full of apologies when they meet hers, the two have talked and he remembers bits and pieces of their battle. The pain she inflicted upon his physical form and the fear that wrapped around his soul when he thought she was dead. She had listened to his confessions and the secrets of his heart and even shared a few of her own. He doesn't believe they can win, not without deaths that will hurt but will prove necessary. She doesn't really want to die adding her name to the list of martyred Bennett witches. After all it's not her cause; she has or never will be in love with a vampire. She's just guilty of needing to protect her best friend
She finds it funny that the way she once saw her teacher: relegated to the role of father figure although someone else held the title has now changed. Her skin prickles with sweat when he's around. Her stomach flips when his fingertips accidently brush hers when he returns assignments during class. She dampens the delusional school girl crush with thoughts of her boyfriend and images of Jenna's tear – stained face. She's not that girl, she never has been and she hopes she never will.
It's a lost cause the first time Bonnie sees Ric staring at the grave in the cemetery. Jeremy and Elena both have reported that Jenna has distanced herself from everyone and everything and chosen to focus on her studies. There's no time for drinks or greasy plates of fries. She just wants to forget the truth that has gone unnoticed. That starts with leaving Ric behind.
She can hear his muffled sobs as he mourns for a wife that now he's not sure he ever loved. She doesn't mistake the distinctive sound or unmistakable scent of the Beam in the bottle clutched tightly in his left hand. He takes long, hard dregs between his tears. He curses at the night sky and the woman who brought the supernatural shit to his door. He's a bleeding heart, just like Damon, and now she understands why he calls the vampire asshole friend. They both hold their emotions in until they spill over into violent outbursts that result in bloodshed and heartbreak.
She's just like them.
Jeremy almost dies.
Elena won't say the words but Bonnie can read it in her eyes. He was a human trying to use his body to shield a witch that held the power of one hundred bad ass bitches.
She's the one to blame.
Tension fills the air when she visits the hospital and attempts to sit by his bed. No one says she's not wanted, they don't have to. The message is relayed loud and clear by the way their conversations end when she enters the room. She feels it in the heavy gazes directed towards here before they exit and send a nurse or doctor in to remove her moments later.
She takes the hint.
There are no phone calls to tell her he's home, up and walking around - missing her. Just whispers that always stop as soon as she's in view. Elena and Stefan have taken to going off campus for lunch and she's left alone. There's no turning back she can see it in the pained expression that graces Caroline's face and the air of superiority that washes over Elena's features. Jeremy returns to class and things have changed. There are no well composed words spoken or written that signals their breakup. It's a given – an understood fact.
Bonnie frequents the graveyard. She pauses when she enters; noting Ric's presence at Isobel's grave before continuing to the marker that represents where her Grams' body would lie if her family had buried here in Mystic Falls. She'd made her father buy the plot so she would have a place to go and clear her head. She doesn't say much, only kneels on the lush grass, willing the tears that never come to fall. It's the story of her life, an only child, alone again.
She's still enjoying her pity party of one when the bottle dangles before her face. The first sip burns going down and the second, uncorks the well of salty liquid that rolls from the corner of her eyes.
Bonnie's not a virgin but she feels like one when she undresses and Ric stands there, eyes cascading down her body as he palms his dick. He's drunk and they've argued from the cemetery to the tiny bedroom in her father's home.
"I can go to jail."
He murmurs before he takes her mouth in a sloppy kiss. He tastes of stale liquor and regret. She tingles from the contact of stubble against the smooth skin of her neck. He presses his erection into her stomach and she knows that now is the time to scream and run away. She can cry rape and everyone will believe her, forgive her, and he'll be the outsider.
Bonnie will have friends – she'll have her excuse of a life.
Instead she takes two steps back and falls into the mattress. She spreads her thighs in an open invitation. It's been two years; she was fifteen when she got stuck with Caroline's boyfriend's fat friend. She doesn't remember what it felt like. She just remembers that for a long time she didn't want to be touched. Her eyes close and she bites her bottom lip as he continues to kiss and explore her.
Jeremy liked to use fingers and his tongue.
She doesn't know what to expect. Her breath hitches as anticipation nearly threatens to drive her insane.
Bonnie's eyes search for Ric. She needs to forget. No more thoughts of Jeremy, Elena, or Caroline. That's the past, there's no turning back. If she does this, she becomes everything her friends hate. What she sees in Ric is a man possessed. His tongue traces her collar bone before slipping to the space between her pert breasts. He latches on to a nipple and it feels better than anything she's done to herself. She wants to tell him where to move next, to touch that place between her thighs, the one that she's teased and stroked trying to take her mind off of everything that's happened. She doesn't mumble a word; she lifts her hips and prays that he gets the point. He pushes her down and forces her legs further apart.
He keeps calling her Isobel.
That's when Bonnie catches a glimpse of it the sliver of rage that she recalls from when he wasn't Alaric Saltzman but Klaus the Original.
He grips her thighs and pulls her down the bed. His body slams into hers and he enters her with one thrust. It hurts like hell and the tears burst from her eyes. Her insides burn and she wonders why she let things get this far. She trembles and fights. Clawing at his back and biting his lips when he chances a kiss. He grunts and groans, fucking her into the mattress. Her body stretches without mercy.
The words fuck, tight, and Izzy singe her ears and she wants to run, but she stays taking his continued violation waiting for it to end.
Bonnie's sweaty and sticky; her hands cover her face and she's aware that she's nearly wailing. That's when she notices the man above her has stopped. His senses have returned. He's drenched from his laborious efforts. His erection hangs between them and she can see the traces of blood on his length, a result of his forcefulness.
The mood shifts.
Her finger presses against his lips before the apologies begin.
Their broken - casualties of war.
She leans back, taking his body with her.
Bonnie doesn't have to ask for him to try again. His hands are gentle, skimming her curves as he adjusts to slip between her legs. Her eyes slide shut and she concentrates, giving in to the sensations he's creating.
She's searching for wholeness.